


Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

by CaptainJimothyCarter



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dancer Peggy Carter, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gift Fic, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Parent Steve Rogers, Porn With Plot, Single Parents, Steggy Secret Santa, Vaginal Sex, War Veteran Steve Rogers, background relationship natasha romanoff/bucky barnes/clint barton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainJimothyCarter/pseuds/CaptainJimothyCarter
Summary: Peggy Carter took a chance. She ran away from a loveless, boring marriage to become a dance instructor in America.After her brother tells her that he can't make it to see her for Christmas, Peggy finds herself meeting her (hot) neighbor and his adorable daughter.Life seems to take it over from there when little Sarah insists that she stays for dinner.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 25
Kudos: 60





	1. A Winter Fairy Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> For caleysteggy on tumblr for Steggy Secret Santa
> 
> I hope you love it, dear. 
> 
> This is 1 part out of 5. It wasn't meant to be this long but who's complaining about a long fic with smut to come?

Moving to Brooklyn had simultaneously been both the best and worst decision of Peggy’s life, she was 100% sure of that now. First off, she was homesick. Homesick more for the familiarity of her life in London, the city, the people, and yes, even the tourist. She missed her brother more than she was willing to admit on their weekly video chats, but the implication was there. She missed his dorky face, the closeness the siblings shared, and how this was their first Christmas without the comforting knowledge that they’d see each other Christmas day. 

Second, Brooklyn wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t  _ home,  _ not yet. There were far too many strange sounds, people, and even smells. The coffee here tasted like sludge, not to mention the tea was watered down dust. No good coffee shop owner seemed to know how to make a decent cup of tea, her saving grace was the weaning supply of tea in her cupboard. She’d have to ask Micheal for some more soon. That is if you could even  _ find  _ a coffee shop that wasn’t some major corporation owner, and even their coffee was far too sweet for her liking.

Third, her job as a dance instructor had been one she took on a spur. The decision might’ve been fueled by her  _ technical  _ husband, Fred, and her mother, both insisting bluntly that she couldn’t be a dance instructor. Not because of the strenuous move it would require, the hassle of citizenship in America, or that she lacked experience outside for such a big venture, but because she was meant to be a nice, little wife who was to be seen and not heard. Her mother had raised her with the expectation that she was to be a stay at home mother, tend to their (nonexistent) children, and serve her husband, and Fred was fully supportive of those ideals. 

Never once had he supported her and her ideas or wants. He wanted her to be his doting wife in public, while he yapped on and on about some business meeting she had no interest in learning about, only telling her simply to get his ego going about how  _ amazing  _ he was for securing such a  _ hard  _ deal, all the while pointedly looking down at his empty wine glass. 

Simply put, Fred bored her to death and Peggy had no interest in living her life on the terms of others. She was going to take this opportunity, no matter what it cost her. 

Imagine their surprise when she left in the middle of the night, the divorce papers sitting on the coffee table where Fred would get up at 5 am sharp and expect breakfast and coffee fully ready to go, and instead, find divorce papers waiting for him. Imagine her surprise when her mother called to yell at her all the while Fred is screaming in the background, but in the very back of the video, she could see Michael’s proud face. Her brother  _ beaming  _ as he tried to keep his snorting laughs to a minimum. 

_“You won’t succeed,”_ Amanda Carter’s words echoed in her head. “And when you fail and come running back home, Margaret, there will be no one waiting for you. You ruined what was a perfectly good marriage between the two of you. Fred works _hard_ for his success and you gave it up for a tidbit dream? This isn’t how I raised you.”

_ No, mother,  _ Peggy thought as she hung up on her mother and promptly turned her phone off.  _ This isn’t how you raised me, but this is what I want. If you’re that upset, then you marry him.  _

They were wrong. Of course, they were wrong. Peggy  _ was  _ amazing at her job. Natasha, a redhead who was her height and a light Russian accent, mentioned every other day how hiring Peggy was the best decision of her life. The compliment always made her beam, especially with the constant compliments she received from her little students and their parents. With only just a degree in dance and personally being involved in play productions and dancing recitals since the age of five, Peggy liked to think she had some talent, but hearing it come from her boss and students was a whole another story.

She almost wanted to rub it in her mother and Fred’s face,  _ almost _ . Not quite yet. The big moment would come around Christmas, where they were working hard on producing a small production of the Nutcracker. 

Fate had other ideas when she woke up just weeks away from the premiere to frantic calls from a stressed Natasha and her yelling about how the pipes busted inside the studio and they were going to take  _ weeks  _ to get everything back in order. 

It felt like a blow to her gut, but what could she do about it? It’s not like she could jump right in and help the maintenance men fix the studio in time for their production. They’d have to repaint the sets that they’d already spent  _ weeks  _ painting. Everything would be hurried and rushed and there’s no telling any of it would be finished in time. Like Natasha had said at the end of the frantic phone call, “Perhaps it is for the best? We were stressed, the students were stressed, and it’s the holidays. We have enough going on as it is... We can always put on the Nutcracker after they’re finished. There’s no time limit for this sort of thing, but in the meantime, I want you to think of what colors the rooms should be. I’m not asking Bucky - the colorblind bastard.  _ Dark white  _ for gray,  _ really?” _

Natasha was right, they could use the vacation, but there was still that annoying guilt gnawing at the back of her mind that told her, her mother and  _ husband  _ were right. She couldn’t do this. Maybe fate was telling her that. 

It’s all these things, plus the heavy hit of homesickness, that caused Peggy to start to wonder her little neighborhood late at night. 

The last she expected to find on her latest walk was a little fairy garden under the nook of a willow tree that looked out of place amongst the oak and oddly placed palm trees. The tree itself looked to be out of a fairy tale with twinkling lights wrapped around its frame, a few strands hanging lower than others, having slipped off the branches in the frozen weather. Snow clung to the limbs, casting the tree in an elegant light of frozen elegance. A ladder still leaned against the tree and a pink scooter laid in the yard, telling Peggy someone lived here, someone with kids.

Perhaps it wasn’t best to stand on the edge of their property at night, nor to squat down and nearly fall due to the unbalances that the snow boots gave her, but she wanted a closer look at the colorful adornments sticking out from the snow. Using the end of her sleeve, she cleaned off the worst of the snow and smiled at the sparkling pink and blue rocks that littered around the nook, creating a little walkway for the little resident. A miniature door with elegant carvings along the frame had been laid on its side, half-covered in snow. She returned it to its original spot against the trunk, tucking a few rocks around the frame to prevent it from toppling over again. 

A few miniature, weathered chairs surrounded a table, a little pot with a plastic flower sat beside the door now. A wheelbarrow filled with snow sat on its side and Peggy frowned at that. Well, that wouldn’t do. She emptied it and used it to clear some of the snow off, digging into her pocket to put one quid into the wheelbarrow for the child to find later. 

A soft crunch as she got back to her feet made the brunette look down, spotting something blue resting on its side, almost camouflage in the snow sat a little blue, plastic bird. The poor thing was the weathered, blue paint chipping off, the cage it sat in had been crushed by a foot.  _ Her foot.  _ Now, that wouldn’t do. She could do something about that, fix it up, and bring it back. 

She’d leave a note, apologize about messing with everything when she comes back with the cage and bird. Pocketing the items, Peggy sighed, her breath lingering in the air. Her watch beeped once and flashed a text message across the screen.

_ You up? - MC _ _  
_ _ Wanted to talk to you about Christmas. - MC _

* * *

“You’re not mad?” Micheal asked her while she sat at her little desk, furiously trying to cover up the fact tears were burning her eyes by bending the wires on the miniature birdcage with pliers. 

“Micheal, why would I be mad? You have to work, it’s fine.” Her voice gave way to the emotion, cracking on end. She heard his sigh without looking at her phone propped up against her lamp. It hurt to hear.

_ “Pegs…” _

_ “Alright!” _ She tossed down the wires and cage, regretting it as the cage bounced and rolled off of the table. “Maybe I am a little peeved, but what can you do about it? You’re working and you heard mother, I am not allowed back in that house until I apologize for embarrassing her and make things right with Fred.”

He made a disgusted noise at the mention of Fred that made her lips twitch, even if a few stray tears came loose.

“Speaking of, that bloke is saying you ran away to go be with another man. Mother isn’t even correcting him. She invited him over for Christmas! I told her I’d have no part in her little game, even if I was coming over for Christmas. Imagine if she knew I was gay, Pegs!”

“ _ Of course he is. He’s always the victim, isn’t he?  _ Give mother my love, will you?” The sarcasm dripped in her tone, nose wrinkling in the camera. “You’d give her a right, ole heart attack if you did that, Micheal, but it would make Christmas more interesting.” 

“What are you doing anyway?” Michael sighed, refusing to keep the topic on her soon-to-be-ex-husband any longer, watching as his baby sister crawled under the desk to pull out the birdcage. “And why aren’t you asleep? Or working on your form? Don’t you need to pearl or something?”

“That’s knitting, you idiot!” Peggy snorted, rolling her eyes. She threw her snow-damp curls over her shoulder and set him with a look, stabbing the pliers threateningly in his direction. “And I do yoga, every morning and night. I haven’t been able to sleep lately, so I go out and walk.” As he started to tell her how dangerous it was, Peggy continued but louder, “And I found a little fairy garden - like when we were kids - but I accidentally crushed the birdcage, so I’m fixing it and I’m gonna return it tomorrow.” 

“Good ole samaritan, Margaret.” He laughed as Peggy rolled her eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad what you got going for you, Pegs. I really am. Kinda jealous, you get to see America! I get to see the blank side of a wall and fill out paperwork. I want to fly again, I’m meant for the air, not for the land.”

“Poetic. Then go  _ borrow  _ a plane, Mike. I’m sure there will be no consequences for a veteran taking a plane and flying to America to see his baby sister. It’s better than trying to confuse people with your chicken-scratch.”

_ “Rude. _ I’m tryin’, but you know it ain’t easy, they  _ say  _ they’re worried about  _ stuff. _ These big heads don’t want to change the system. Who knows, maybe a pilot will call in sick or something.” A crashing noise behind him made them both look up, Micheal turning around in an office chair and nearly falling to look out of a door behind him.  _ “Fuck, _ that’ll be Sousa falling over himself again. The guy ain’t used to that new leg of his and they insist he’s the coffee boy out here. I love you, I’ll call you on Christmas Day, okay? Just don’t fall in love with a Yank!”

Rolling her eyes, Peggy bade her brother goodbye and returned focused on the birdcage, her heart sinking as she stared at the half-bent wires. 

Her first Christmas in America and she’d be spending it alone.

Now, she was trying not to cry. It was a slim chance, she knew, they both knew but Peggy had packed  _ so  _ much hope into seeing Micheal for Christmas that it became everything she thought about. 

It made her physically sick, a hallow note in her chest to know she’d be alone on Christmas. Not that it was a big deal but Christmas was a big deal to her. She  _ loved  _ Christmas, loved the twinkling lights, the gift-giving, egg nog, the whole bits of it! And now, to think she’d have to spend it alone? It felt like a punch to her gut every time she thought about it.

At the start of December, Natasha had insisted she could spend Christmas with her and her boyfriends, but Peggy didn’t want to put her boss out. Not when she knew how excited the woman was to be spending the holiday with  _ both  _ her boyfriends. Much as she loved Natasha, she didn’t want to just drop in on their private moment. 

* * *

_ Chin up, Carter. It’s just one Christmas. You’ll get plenty of others.  _

Sighing, Peggy bundled herself up to brace the cold weather outside, intending to deliver the birdcage while it was still daylight outside. Wrapping a scarf around her lower face and pulling her toboggan down over her unruly curls, Peggy felt confident about facing Brooklyn’s winter rage.

The wind stripped Peggy of every bit of heat her body possessed, barely able to stop her teeth from chattering as she walked down the frozen sidewalk in slow, careful steps. The fairy garden from last night was just as she had left it, the only difference was the quid was gone. 

_ “Hey, lady! Miss! Lady!”  _

Peggy had just hunched down to put the birdcage back in its home when a force collided with her backside. Her recently honed skills at the dance studio and a hesitant reaction from going into a defense mode is what saved her from faceplanting into the roots. Her thighs screamed as she spread them to catch her balance, knees stinging from hitting the icy surface. The force that collided with her had backed off, a sound of gasping horror coming from the other side of the tree. 

Picking herself up on shaking limbs, Peggy turned around to face the little girl that had ran into her. She looked to be about five or six at best guess, with bright blonde that that stuck out of a knitted, pink cap. She had bright blue eyes and a grin on her lips as she physically bounced up and down, snatching the birdcage from Peggy’s gloved hands. That grin quickly turned into a frown, holding the birdcage against her chest like it was the most precious thing on this earth.

Before she could react, the owner of the gasping voice did first.  _ “Sarah Elizabeth Rogers! Is that how we act?!”  _ he scolded, coming around the other side of the tree so Peggy could get a proper look.

He was a good head taller than her, dark blonde hair, and the same bright blue eyes that told Peggy he was this girl’s father. His eyes were framed by thick lashes that clung together as he blinked, a few flecks of snow falling from the branches above landing on his lashes. Freckles lined his face like little kisses from a sun who now forsaken their land with the cold, wintery weather. When he smiled at her, it lit up his whole face, his eyes twinkling with amusement

His sharp jawline wore a stubbly beard that told her he’d neglected to shave. The way he held himself, in the back of her mind, reminded her of Micheal and how he would poise himself just months after being out of the military. Shoulders back, chest out, chin high. And instead of that poised, almost robotic demeanor, that Micheal possessed for a short amount of time, this one was much more calmer. 

“No, no,” Peggy breathed, shaking her head before the handsome blonde could start to lecture his daughter anymore. She watched as he removed his earmuffs to hear her better and in that simple motion, she appreciated him for it. A nasty reminder in the back of her mind told her that Fred would’ve never done such a thing.

“Don’t scold the young lady, I am on your property without permission, after all. I’m a stranger, trespassing on your land and touching your property. So I think I have every right to be yelled at, though, unfortunately, I am the one that did ruin your little birdcage last night.”

She nodded down to the freshly painted cage and bird, now sitting securely inside the cage. The man winced and hissed at the knowledge, somehow making a simple expression seem so elegant.

“So  _ you’re  _ the one that left us the…” 

_ “Fairy money!”  _ Sarah quipped, eyes huge as she took in Peggy’s appearance. “You left us the-the-the fairy money! I told daddy it was fairy money! A fairy visited last night!”

“Yes, fairy money.” The man sounded far more amused, giving a small laugh as Sarah pulled out the coin from the contents of her jacket and held it up for Peggy to see. “I was wondering about that - not every day that you find qu- _ fairy money  _ in your garden. Thank you for returning Mr...what was his name again, sweetie?”

_ “Mister Birbie, _ daddy!” She sounded exasperated, rolling her eyes in the way that only a five-year-old could manage that made you feel ashamed for not remembering a plastic bird’s name. Peggy was just able to hide her snorting laugh in her scarf.  _ “ _ His full name is  _ Duke Birbington! _ I named him after Mama Sarah’s birdie! She gave him to me for my fairy garden!”

Her eyes flashed to Peggy suddenly, the coin still held tightly in one hand. “ _ Are you a fairy?! Only fairies are allowed in my garden! No humans!” _

Sarah spoke in such a sure voice that it made Peggy blink, she wanted to laugh at the name but she wouldn’t dare. Not with Sarah looking at her with an accusation in her eyes for daring to disturb her fairy garden that would’ve been trapped in a sheen of ice otherwise.

_ “Sarah…”  _ The man’s tone took on a slight warning, looking down at his daughter with a frown. “Why don’t we  _ thank  _ our nice friend for fixing your garden? It got covered in the snow last night and she saved our fairy guests from being frozen.”

“But  _ daddy!”  _ The little girl stomped her foot and Peggy wasn’t able to hide the small, snorting laugh this time. “Only  _ fairies  _ can touch the garden, only fairies can work in it! No humans allowed!” She turned her passion-filled blue eyes back to Peggy, pouting. “Are you a fairy?”

“Yes and no,” Peggy found herself saying before she could stop herself. “I’m not a fairy, but I am an ambassador to the fairy-folks. I was sent out by my friend to help clear their new home from all the snow so they weren’t trapped.” 

Sarah’s brow knitted slightly, mouthing the word  _ ambassador.  _ She looked up to her dad, the frown of confusion tugging on her bottom lip. 

“Like a-a...a  _ champion _ , love. Someone who speaks or works for another person. She’s helping your fairy folks out since they can’t move all the heavy snow. Now, why don’t you thank our friend here and go inside to wash up for supper?”

Instead, the little girl did something different. She threw herself at Peggy’s waist and hugged her tightly, content with the answers for now. Peggy smiled as she hugged the little girl back, shrugging towards the amused-looking father.

“Can she stay for supper?!  _ Can you? _ ” She turned back to look at Peggy, instead of her dad, holding onto her one hand, all the while jumping up and down.

Peggy had to lift her arm to prevent Sarah from slipping on the ice. It was starting to get late, the sun, in all its hellish glory of not warming them up, was starting to set. Sarah giggled and abandoned the bird to her coat, swinging off of Peggy’s arm like she was a make-shift swing. That giggle did the heart good and her heart melted at it.

“Only if your father thinks it’s a good idea,” Peggy mused, turning to look back up at the handsome man. She was curious what laid under his gloved fingers - a ring? No way a man as charming and attractive wasn’t taken. He did have a kid, after all. “I can stay if you want me to but I have to go get milk before it gets too late.”

The man’s brow knitted together in concern, giving a slight shake of his head. “I’m sorry,” he began, even Sarah stopped swinging to look at her dad. “The stores are all out of milk. I was just there earlier, getting groceries for Christmas dinner. I had to resort to powder milk.” His nose wrinkled in disgust, in a cute manner that made the freckles stand out even more.

It wasn’t fair how cute he was.

“As for dinner…” He sighed, his shoulders slacking, giving a lopsided smile that shouldn’t have made her heart flutter but it did anyway. “I would love to have you as a guest,  _ Miss…” _

“Peggy.” She sat Sarah on the ground and picked up the girl’s dropped knitted cap to hand back to her. She watched as the blue-eyed man ushered his daughter inside, turning back to give his new neighbor his full attention. “Peggy Carter. I just moved in down the street a few months ago. I…”

The man’s eyes lit up in recognition, that lopsided grin growing on his lips. “You’re Natasha’s new instructor! She said she hired someone across the pond, but didn’t give much more info. I think we were supposed to meet for some holiday party but after the studio’s pipes busted and everything -  _ well…” _ His broad shoulders shrugged and a look crossed his face. Was it remorse? Guilt? A familiar sensation of pain, she wasn’t sure. It almost reminded her of Micheal, in the first few months that he’d been home, the same look crossed his face often. 

“Well, it’s good to meet you now... _ Mister…?” _

He laughed. The laugh was  _ loud,  _ it echoed through the dead-end street around them. His head threw back, eyes crinkling in the corner, a hand on his chest.

“Excuse me, my ma would  _ kill  _ me for not remembering my manners.  _ Steve.  _ Steve Rogers and that, little munchkin, as you guessed is my daughter, Sarah.”

“So, she  _ is  _ your daughter,” Peggy mused, tongue darting out to lick at her dry lips. The wind was starting to pick up again, making her shudder. “I wouldn’t have guessed, you two look  _ nothing  _ alike.”

“Oh, there’s the dry, English humor that Natasha warned me about,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “To be truthful, she’s my mother who was reverted in age due to some fuckery through a witch’s spell.”

The seriousness in his tone, in addition to the serious expression that crossed his hard face, made Peggy almost believe him.  _ Almost. _ Until it cracked on the surface and Steve laughed again, making her smile.

There was just something addicting about that laugh.

“Well, Mr. Steve Rogers, remind me to tell my boss off about spilling my secrets. And to avoid witches in your company.” Her thumb jerked back down the street, somewhere off behind her was her little, ole home. “I would love to come over for dinner - are you sure I am not crossing some line here? If you’re a man of drinking, I could dash back to my place to get some wine or…”

She trailed off, unsure of where she was going with this. There was a look in Steve’s eyes that made the thoughts melt from her brain. Seriously, it was almost annoying how attractive this guy was. 

“Absolutely not,” he declared, holding his gloved hand out to her. “I will not have you walking back that way and risk falling. Besides, I have wine and all the alcohol we need for the evening. You are welcomed in my home, Miss Carter. It will be an honor to have you as a guest. I just hope you don’t mind breakfast for dinner - it’s a Rogers’ family tradition to have breakfast for dinner at least once a week.”

“Your family traditions sound wonderful,” Peggy mused, not a second of hesitation to take his hand. Even while gloved, she could feel just how secure his hand was around hers. “Though, I’m not sure how breakfast foods will pair with wine.”

Steve’s little lopsided grin, the same one that made her heart flutter, resurfaced stronger than before. He held her hand tightly as they walked up the driveway, allowing her to fully support herself against the slippery steps. 

“I don’t know about that, but I do know that I make a mean sea salt caramel french toast that pairs well with whiskey.”

“I don’t know much, Mr. Rogers, but I do know that sounds heavenly.” And not to mention looking up at his face sounded like heaven too.

How odd they were practically strangers and yet Peggy felt right at home with him and his daughter.

Steve took the steps slower than her, letting go of her hand just for a moment so he could lean heavily into the reinforced railing. He flinched with the three steps, rubbing at his thigh as he got up the last step. At her concerned look, he shrugged it off. “You don’t need to worry about an old guy, like me. It’s an old injury, it just bothers me if I’m on my legs for too long.”

Peggy snorted, despite herself. Her mother would faint if she knew how much she’s laughed and snorted today alone, how  _ uncivilized  _ her daughter has been acting. “Old guy? You’re my age, Steven!” She turned to face him on his front door, her index finger poking his chest. A solid chest of thick muscle, she might add. All he did was grin and giggle like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Damnit, that shouldn’t be adorable. “I can worry about you if I as so want to and you can’t do anything about it.”

A challenge had seeped into her tone and Steve’s eyebrow rose, unaware until the screen door slammed open that the pair were standing close together. 

Closer than any two strangers who just met had any right to stand.

_ “Are you two about to kiss?”  _ Sarah’s voice shrieked in disgust. Peggy jumped back, giving a weak laugh.  _ “Lady, fairy, _ aren’t you gonna come in?!  _ Daddy, _ fairies have to be  _ invited  _ inside! You can’t just bring them in!” 

Steve chuckled softly, still standing close enough for Peggy to feel his hand brush over her backside as he held the screen door open for them. “My bad, I forgot, love.”

She turned to face Peggy, hands on her hips, still wearing her winter jacket. “Miss Peggy, do you wanna come inside our home?”

Peggy smiled brightly at the little lady, bowing deeply at the waist. Her curls flopped into her face, throwing it over her shoulder as she straightened her spine. “I would  _ love  _ to come inside, Miss Sarah Rogers.” 

There was no turning back now, especially not when a child grabs at your hand with both of hers and drags you inside, leaving their father to laugh softly to himself as he watches his daughter and their new neighbor interact. 


	2. Sinfully Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy follows through on her promise of joining them for dinner.

Like every other home in this neighborhood, Steve’s was on the older side. The hardwood floor sloped slightly downward, causing the melting snow from their boots to run down and pool against the old towel he had laid against the baseboards. A maroon rug sat tucked under the coffee table, a few Christmas-themed coloring books sat on top of the wooden surface. A couch was against the window, a blanket was folded neatly over the back of the couch, but its pillows were thrown on the floor. An overly stuffed armchair held a few unmarked boxes stacked haphazardly in it, a sketchbook peeking out from inside the top box. A tv rested above the fireplace, silently displaying the weather report for the rest of the night. It looked like a promise of a snowstorm later. 

The fireplace was beautiful. It was left untouched with the yellow painted walls, the bricks were rough with age. The father and daughter duo had decorated the mantle with garland and two hand-knitted stockings. A Christmas tree sat beside the fireplace, its limbs bare of any sort of decoration. The only source of decoration around the tree was an old tree skirt with the name  _ Rogers  _ hand-stitched across the velvet surface. A rustic piano that, looked older than Steve, sat in the small space behind the armchair, decorated with another piece of garland and an unlit candle. 

_ “Sarah,” _ Steve scolded lightly. “Take your shoes off before you take our guest anywhere in this house - and put them  _ nicely  _ by the fireplace. I don’t want to get up at three in the morning and trip over your shoes or step in cold puddles again.”

“Can’t sleep?” Peggy found herself asking, almost purring the question out until she realized a child held her hands.

Steve shrugged his broad shoulders in answer, working his coat off until he stood in front of them in nothing but a black sweater and a pair of paint-stained jeans. A pained look passed across his face that disappeared as quickly as it came. He helped his daughter take her coat off, giving Peggy enough time to slip her boots and coat off.

Instead, he responded with, “I’m going to get dinner started. I don’t know about you two but I’m starving. Sarah, can you run to the basement and get me the milk and eggs from the fridge?”

Peggy could see Steve’s hand twitching, starting to near his thigh again. Sarah rapidly nodded her head and took off, leaving the two adults alone. She followed the little girl with her eyes until she was out of the room, giving a soft sigh once she was gone.

Steve gave a little, knowing smile, waving his hand for Peggy to follow him into the kitchen. The kitchen was like her own, small and cramped, but with  _ just  _ enough space to fit a fridge, oven, and somehow work an island for extra counter space. It seemed like Steve utilized every bit of space given to him with the fridge holding his knives and cutting boards. 

“She means well,” Steve sighed softly. “Sarah is a lovely kid and I might be biased because she’s  _ my  _ kid, but I know if you’re not used to kids, she’s a lot.” He turned towards the fridge, pulling out a carton of milk and eggs to place on the island behind him. “But, you’re used to kids, aren’t you?”

It was the first time that Peggy was aware of the Brooklyn accent in the man’s reverberating tone. It was subtle, only coming out in certain words but it was a pleasure to hear. She looked amused as she leaned into the side of the island, watching Steve starting to crack a few eggs into a bowl.

“Did you actually  _ need  _ eggs or were you trying to get us alone time?” she asked, unable to keep the amusement from her tone. He just shot her a shit-eating grin, ignoring how her cheeks started to burn. “Fine, another question then - how much did Natasha tell you about my life and why has she told me  _ nothing  _ about you?”

“Because why can’t I be the mysterious bad boy?”

“Because you are not mysterious nor do I think you have a single  _ bad-boy  _ bone in your body.” Another pained look crossed Steve’s face, one Peggy was sure she caught this time. She cleared her throat, using her leg to wrap it around the bottom of a stool and kicking it around the corner in Steve’s direction.  _ “Sit.” _

He looked pointedly at it, back to where she was standing perfectly still against the counter.  _ “H...how…?” _

“A lady never tells her secret.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue as he plopped down onto the stool to continue to mix the eggs with a cup of milk. He tried to get up to grab at a baking dish but stopped the second Peggy dashed around the corner and slapped his hand away with a kitchen towel. 

“Absolutely not,” she huffed. “You will stay seated, mister. You’re hurting and I won’t have you making your pain worse while waltzing around this kitchen while I’m just standing here.” The towel was pointed threateningly in his direction where Steve pouted on the other end of it, but thankfully he stayed sitting. 

“You are  _ so…” _ She raised her brow at him and Steve stopped speaking, cheeks flushing a soft pink.

Thankfully, his daughter decided to pop back up with a half-gallon of milk and a carton of eggs tucked under her arms. Her face was tinted pink as she stood on her tiptoes to press the items onto the counter. 

“Well, that took you long enough. Did you get lost down there?” Steve teased her, thanking Peggy in a soft voice when he was handed the baking dish.

“No!” Sarah pouted, shaking her damp hair to send water droplets everywhere. “The light is out again and I couldn’t  _ see!” _

Steve sighed a little too hard, his hand tightening around the whisk. “Sorry, darling, I’ll get the step stool out to change the bulbs out. I  _ swore I had changed it…  _ Let’s just get this in the oven first. Can you hand me the bread loaf in the pantry?”

“Can I cut it?”

Seeing Steve worrying his bottom lip, Peggy squeezed his shoulder to reach over him and grab at the cutting board and the bread knife. “Why don’t I help you cut the bread, Sarah? Then, I can change the bulb for your daddy - we don’t need any accidents happening in the basement.”

Sarah’s eyes lit up, hastily nodding her head. She almost ran into the closed pantry doors, whisking it open in time and grabbing at the uncut loaf off the shelf. “You don’t even need the stool! You can just float up there!”

Steve traded a look with Peggy, cocking his brow as if to ask her how she’s going to get out of this one.

“Oh, but I do,” Peggy answered nonchalantly. “I’m not a  _ full _ fairy-folk, little one. I’m  _ from  _ the fairy lands and work with them, yes but I’m not a full fairy that are in your little books. It’s why I’m big. Does that make sense?”

Sarah seemed to accept that with complete ease, her head not stopping its bobbing. “I guess,” she sighed, her brow wrinkling, in the same manner, her father was doing as he started to add a few spices to his bowl. “It makes  _ sense. _ The fairy that lives in the tree doesn’t want to be seen,  _ they don’t like humans cause we’re loud and some are mean.” _

She spoke the last bit in a loud whisper, Steve’s lips twitching into a small smile. 

“Hm, not all humans are loud or mean, you’re certainly not. You built my fairy friend their own home! They thank you  _ very  _ much for it.” Grabbing a stool, Peggy hoisted the little girl to kneel on the padded seat, standing behind her to grab hold of the bread knife and the hunk of bread. 

“Alright, little one, why don’t we get to helping your daddy, hm? I’ll guide your hands to cut the bread, it doesn’t have to be perfect.” 

She’s seen how Steve’s hand was trembling as he tried to pour the milk steadily. The last she wanted to do was let Steve continue to do too much while in pain, which included holding a knife and standing on a step ladder in the dark.

With the bread cut up into acceptable hunks and the custard made, Peggy excused herself downstairs to the basement. She was surprised Sarah could see a thing down here, it felt like her phone’s light was barely doing anything to pierce the darkness. Finding the step ladder resting on the railing, Peggy was able to find a delicate balance between holding her phone in her teeth, unscrewing with one hand, and the new lightbulb in her other hand. Her legs were screaming by the time she was done, having to balance herself just right with the rickety ladder. 

“Wow,” Steve breathed when he met Peggy on top of the stairs.  _ “You really do light up my life.” _

Peggy paused mid-step, closing her mouth as she closed the door behind her. “Was that a  _ pun?” _ His shit-eating grin and laugh made her roll her eyes with an amused look until it faltered. 

“You’re in big trouble, mister.”

Her finger was back on his chest and all Steve could do was look down at it and back up at her face with that shit-eating grin turning into that lopsided one. It's like he knew how to make her heart melt. 

“What did I do now? I was just coming to see how you were doing. Sarah is coloring in the living room and dinner is baking!”

“Excuses, excuses,” she grumbled, making the tips of his ears turn red. For the first time, she wondered if he was a full-body blusher. “No one told you that you could get out of your seat.”

It was Steve’s turn for his mouth to fall open and to roll his eyes. “Yes,  _ mother.  _ Or, sorry do you prefer  _ mummy?”  _

He said the term  _ mummy  _ in what had to have been the cruelest version of her accent that she’s ever heard. She cringed and snatched the kitchen towel from his shoulder just to hit his chest with it while he laughed.

“Hm, no. I prefer the term  _ ma’am  _ when we’re in bed.” 

It was a joy to watch Steve’s face tint a bright shade of pink, starting from the tips of his ears and continued down past his neck.  _ Definitely a full body blusher, then. _

_ “I...I…”  _ Steve was just a foot behind her as she walked off into the kitchen, standing far too close behind her when she stopped in the doorway at the sight of the whiskey and glasses on the counter. “Everything okay?”

A memory-filled Peggy’s mind, she was  _ just  _ coming home after being with Michael at the hospital shortly after his plane crash, when things were peak stressful, and she was to her breaking point, to a table chock-full of bills she has yet to organize and file, dirty dishes from the last three days, and the neighbor’s cat licking at spoiled cream.

All she had asked of her  _ darling  _ husband was to clean up a little while she was gone, even if it was just dumping the dishes into the dishwasher, to put the bills up because she didn’t want to think about them while her brother’s life was on the line, and to at least make sure their tricky window was closed so the cat didn’t get inside. 

Fred had done  _ none  _ of that and still expected dinner when he’d gotten home after she spent all morning cleaning up  _ his  _ mess. 

Hearing Steve’s question grace her ears, she nodded, having to force herself to do so. The look the blonde gave her said that he didn’t believe her. Instead of questioning, he poured her a drink, raising it to tap their glasses together.

“To a good Christmas season and new friends.”

“To new friends.” 

Steve frowned over the rim of his glass at her but again said nothing. She got the feeling he didn’t want to press and upset her - she hoped she didn’t look upset. This wasn’t Steve’s burden to bear, besides who wanted to hear her talk about her soon-to-be ex-husband and how utterly miserable he made her?

“So,” Steve mused before Peggy could think of anything to fill in their comfortable silence with. “You’re from London, right? What’s it like there? I only visited briefly when I was on a layover.” 

“Layover? Where were you heading?” She’s grateful for Steve filling the silence in, not trusting herself to bring up a topic. “How’d you like London?”

_ “Germany.”  _

The tone made her want to prob more, it sounded almost like resentment, but Steve continued before she had the chance, “It was lovely, for the time I was in it. Except I might’ve...told a barista that his drink was shit.” 

_ “Steven!” _

“Look, I was tired, I had just come off of a long flight and was going on another long one. I just wanted a hot drink and fuck, you guys are famous for your tea, but the fucker forgot to put the tea in it. It was just hot water.”

Peggy hid her snorting laughter into her glass. “You are an idiot - an  _ adorable  _ idiot but an idiot nonetheless.”

“I’ll take that as British slang for  _ you’re hot and stupid.”  _ He didn’t miss how Peggy both blushed and rolled her eyes again at him. “Are you missing home lots? This time of year is hard, I know for lots of folks.”

Peggy couldn’t stop the sigh as her eyes dropped down to her glass, shifting her position on the stool. “I...do. I won’t be able to go home for Christmas for...personal reasons and my only family whose worth seeing isn’t able to come down because of his job, so it sucks.”

She saw Steve’s eyes widen in alarm and knew what he would ask because in his position she would ask the same thing, but she didn’t want this sympathy, this pity. Not that Steve wasn’t attractive or he didn’t have an adorable daughter, but Christmas was about family - not taking in pity cases like hers. Instead, she changed the topic, nodding her head to where they could see Sarah leaning over half of the coffee table while coloring. 

“About Sarah...and you - is there...are there…?” Christ, she didn’t know how to say this. “Is her...other parent involved? I just don’t want to overstep a boundary by being here.” 

Steve’s warm laugh made her face flush. “Are you asking if I’m single, Miss Carter?” He leaned over into her personal space, his hand just barely brushing her thigh.

Even if all she could do was shrug and take another sip, not wanting to put her foot in her mouth. Again.

“To answer the question - Lorraine and I aren’t involved. Do you know every other story that some movie or show does about a child left on your doorstep or the hospital calling to tell you that you have a child?  _ Like that?”  _

_ “She didn’t.” _

“She did.” He nodded solemnly. “I was left with just hours to figure things out - thank God my mother is a nurse or I would’ve been so unprepared. It took all my training to not just break down in panic. It was a one night stand, I woke up to an empty bed, no number or note. Nine months later, a baby is waiting for me at the hospital. She’d just given birth and...and...left, told ‘em I was coming to pick her and the baby up. She remembered my phone number and address and left it all with them. I-I don’t understand  _ how  _ they let her get away with this, it’s only because of my mother, the cops weren’t called on me. Three hours later, I’m holding Sarah Elizabeth in my arms, absolutely panicking.”

_ “Oh, Steven…”  _ Peggy’s voice softened, her hand reaching over to take Steve’s and giving it a comforting squeeze. “I am  _ so  _ sorry. That’s horrible. She could’ve at least  _ told  _ you that she was pregnant. If you don’t mind me saying...you’ve done a wonderful job raising her all by yourself.”

Turning his hand over in hers, she was rewarded with a sheepish smile and a squeeze of his hand.  _ “Nah,  _ that’s all ‘cause of my ma’s help, honestly. It hasn’t been easy but…” He looked over at Sarah again and smiled, the pride radiating in his eyes. “It’s been worth it. Besides, I know you’re saying that just because I’m feeding you.”

Peggy just had enough time to scoff when the timer went off, making them jump apart. She gave him a pointed look to stay seated as she got the ooey, gooey french toast out of the oven. “I’m saying it because it’s true, Steve.” she scoffed, “Besides, if we’re being truthful, I’m only saying it because of the free alcohol. You know how to treat a gal. _ ”  _

_ “Sarah, dinner! Turn the tv off, love.”  _ Over the rim of his glass, he set Peggy with a look that told her they’d settle this later.

* * *

“What do you do?”

The question came from Sarah, Peggy’s cheeks stuffed full of the sinfully good French Toast. Steve was not allowed to make this again, she didn’t trust herself not to just eat the whole bowl. The best parts had to be the extra caramel sauce he poured on each of their places, the sinful sauce adding just enough saltiness to what could’ve been an overly sweet dinner. She could see Steve’s amused look from across the island, Sarah sitting beside her dad was too involved in her drink to notice it.

“I’m sorry?” Peggy choked on her swallow, clearing her throat. “What do I do…?”

_ “Uh-huh _ . Like-like daddy is a cartoon...cartoon - he draws for Mr. Stark! What do you do? You say you work with the fairies! So, what do you do?”

There was a snip to her tone that Peggy found amusing and it reminded her of her younger self - where she was blunt and to the point and hated tiptoeing around an answer the way some adults were prone to do.

“I help the fairies out who need help relocating in the human world, need to find homes, such as yours. I speak for them when it comes to terms of business and what naught, but it's not often that I’m wanted for help. In the meantime, I teach dance. Or I did - our place is currently being fixed.”

“Oh, like Auntie Natasha! She teaches dance too! She was teaching me but I broke my ankle when her classes started, so I couldn’t finish!”

Peggy gave a horrified look up to Steve, raising her brows and looking down at the oblivious little girl stuffing her face.

“It was earlier this year. Sarah just had a slip and fall during an icy morning in March and landed that  _ right  _ way that broke her ankle, but she got a pretty, pink cast out of it, didn’t you, darling?” The little girl beamed proudly at it and nodded. “With sparkles and all.”

“My, that’s...horrible. I broke an arm when I was younger thanks to my brother pushing me out of his treehouse. The doctor said it almost qualified for surgery.”

“Why didn’t they just use magic to heal it?” Sarah asked. “They should’ve used magic - no surgery or doctors.”

“I’m human too, love, remember? No magic will work on a human.” She gave Sarah a charming, little smile and the little one just seemed to accept it with ease. 

“Your brother pushed you out of the treehouse - did he at least feel bad?”

It was Peggy’s turn to snort, laughing into her glass.  _ “Please,  _ that boy has never felt bad about a single thing in his life. To this day, he insists it’s my fault for breaking my arm.  _ ‘You took the last eclair, Marge!’  _ is what he’ll always say to defend his actions.”

“Was it a good eclair at least?” Steve asked, ignoring Peggy’s look.  _ “What? _ I’ve had desserts I would kill over!”

“If you  _ must  _ know, yes, they were absolutely wonderful. My grandmother used to make them handmade for holidays and our birthdays.” 

“Mama Sarah makes homemade apple tarts! She makes apple pie cakes for my birthday and daddy’s birthday!” The little girl was practically giddy, scraping the last bit of her dinner off of her plate.

“Those sound amazing, maybe I’ll have to ask Mama Sarah to make me one someday.” Sarah’s eyes went wide at the admission, bobbing her head until Peggy feared that it was going to pop off. “One day, Sarah, darling, one day.”

* * *

“Dad.” 

“Hm?”

_ “Dad!” _

_ “Daddddddd!” _

Peggy turned around on the last shrill, spotting Steve sitting on the overly stuffed armchair, very-into his sketchbook and Sarah pulling on his pants leg to try and fail to get his attention. The boxes were now on the floor, forgotten about in his work. She gave a small laugh as she entered the living room, leaning into the doorway.

“I’ve seen that look before, people get  _ so  _ into what they’re doing that they ignore the world around them. Does this happen often?”

“Yes,” Sarah pouted, sitting back onto the carpet, arms crossed over her chest. “And it's annoying.”

“It is - why don’t we shake it up a bit hm?” At Sarah’s confused look, she pressed a finger to her lips to try to silence the little girl’s giggling.

“Steve?”

_ “Hm?” _

“Dishes are done and put away, the kitchen is cleaned up as well.”

“That’s great, honey.”

_ Oh,  _ it was a struggle to ignore her cheeks burning at such a little pet name. 

“I thought you should know I also flooded the bathrooms.”

“That’s good, thank you.”

Sarah giggled, pressing her hands to her lips to try to silence the giggles.

“Oh? Since it’s good, then I should let you know the basement is now a swimming pool, there’s a deer in the attic with a bat - they’re best friends.”

“That’s good, dar- _ wait what?”  _

Steve jerked his head up from what he was doing, confusion written on his face as the girls started to laugh. 

“Very funny, Peggy,  _ hah-hah.” _ He sat the sketchbook aside and picked Sarah up and tickled her along her side. “And you too, little miss. Conspiring against your old pops?”

Sarah screamed her laughter out, scrambling out of Steve’s lap and running to hide behind Peggy. She held tightly to her leg, pushing her towards Steve like a human shield.

“Hey, now!” Peggy chuckled, hands splayed out to catch herself on the side of the chair. “I am  _ not  _ part of this, little lady.”

“Yes, you are! Tickle her, daddy, not me! A fairy’s laugh is good luck!” 

A look passed Steve’s face, silently asking if she was okay with this. All she could think was how comfortable his lap looked and how his daughter was pushing them together. 

Peggy was caught by surprise when Steve stood up and wrapped his arms around her middle, fingers dancing over her middle. He laughed with her as she wiggled, plopping both of them into the chair. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve chuckled, dropping his hands. “I call a truce. I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t have been wrapped up in my drawing.” He put his hand over the sketchbook to stop Peggy from peeking at it, teasingly poking her side when he caught her.

“No you shouldn’t,” Sarah said matter-of-factly. “You should have started the tree! C’mon, daddy,  _ you promised.”  _

“Yeah, Steve, you promised,” Peggy teased, gently getting up from his lap and holding her hand out to pull him to his feet. “I’ll leave you two to it, thank you again for dinner.”

_ “No! _ ” Sarah gasped, turning to look back at Peggy, wearing a piece of garland from the box around her neck like an itchy scarf. “You gotta help us! Daddy, tell her to help us!”

_ “Sarah.  _ We don’t tell, we ask. If Miss Peggy wants to help us, she’s more than welcome to.”

Turning to look up at Peggy, the little, blonde girl who was so much like her father held out the tiny birdcage she’d taken earlier. “Will you  _ please  _ stay and help us decorate the tree?”

As if she wasn’t already smitten by this, little family, Peggy felt her heart swelling in her throat. She wanted to instantly cry from such a sweet gesture. “Of course, darling. Just point me to it.”

Steve gave a soft sigh as he stood beside Peggy, leaning too heavily on his side. His eyes watched Sarah dig inside of the boxes, pulling out a few strands of lights.

“When I was younger, ma would work double shifts and as the holidays got near, she almost couldn’t get any time off until she put her foot down,” Steve said in a soft voice. “It became a tradition for us to get a tree and decorate it two weeks into December. I guess it sorta just followed me.” 

“It’s a beautiful tree, even not decorated. I heard the rustic look is big this year,” she mused in a softer tone, reaching down to give his hand a gentle squeeze. The way he held himself made her worry about his pain level.

Steve chuckled and squeezed her hand, reluctant to let go to help Sarah untangle the lights. Peggy made herself helpful by unstacking the boxes and opening up the wrapped ornaments for Sarah to place as she pleased. She took one end of the lights from Steve, so he didn’t have to get up from the table and helped him wrap the tree in the multi-colored lights, ducking around Sarah who went the opposite direction with her tinsel garland.

It was beautiful how most of the ornaments in their possession were handmade, including a large snowman that was made out of paint-dipped styrofoam balls. There was one glass ornament that Peggy found, a beautiful military aircraft. An etching on the underside read,  _ To Whom The Bell Tolls - Howling Commandos, in loving honor of Captain Steven G. Rogers. _

She looked up to find Steve standing in front of her, his hand held out for the ornament. She gently placed it in his hand, watching him as he set the delicate thing on a higher branch. He came to sit back beside her on the table with a tired sigh, turning over a hand-knitted gnome in his antsy fingers.

She had questions, questions she knew she shouldn’t probe to ask, but she couldn’t ask them. Not yet. Not while Sarah was awake.

They silently watched Sarah run around the tree, often asking for either of their help to put this or that ornament on a higher spot. Each time she passed it, Peggy found herself staring at the  _ Howling Commandos  _ ornament, watching the way the red, white, and blue plane glittered in the warm light of the fireplace. It was a beautiful piece of decoration that had much sentimental value to Steve, but the look on his face when he took it from her - there was a story there that weighed on his heart.

_ “There!”  _ Sarah declared when the tree was almost overburdened with ornaments, a few strands of garland, and multi-colored lights. She had her hands on her hips, giving a bright smile to the two adults sitting at the table. 

She ran back over to her dad, giggling as she was wrapped up in his arms and hoisted into his lap. “It’s pretty! Isn’t it, Miss Peggy?”

“Oh certainly, darling,” Peggy agreed, looking up at the top of the tree where no star remained. “Do you not have a star? Or any sort of topper?”

Steve shrugged slightly, chuckling as Sarah yawned loudly. The sugar crashes were hitting her now. “No, we had one but it broke in our move. We just haven’t found the right one to replace it yet.”

“Miss Peggy?” Sarah asked, stifling another yawn. “Can you dance for us?”

Peggy couldn’t help the frown, clearing her throat. “Well, darling, I haven’t danced in a while. The last dance we did was Sugar Plum Fairy from…”

_ “The Nutcracker!”  _ The little girl squealed, clapping her hands. “Auntie Nat puts on a show every year! It’s sad we won’t get to see it this year - daddy and I love it. We see it every year!”

Peggy looked up at Steve who gave her that lopsided smile, even if he looked exhausted. “Well?” She hummed at him. “What about you, darling? Do you want to see the dance too? It’s unfair to let this tradition be broken.”

“I would  _ love  _ to see you dance, Pegs. I can play the music.” His head bobbed over to the old piano and Peggy found herself surprised.

“Just how many talents do you possess, Mr. Rogers? You draw, you are an excellent cook, and you play the piano?”

“When I was little, my neighbor took care of me and he had this piano in his apartment. He couldn’t play anymore on account of his hands, but he taught me how to play. I’ve never seen a man so happy when I learned to play  _ twinkle, twinkle little star…  _ It never went far and I just know the basics but I’m sure I can try. If you want.” 

_ If you want.  _

How could she say no to such a thing? The way Steve  _ looked  _ at her, the sheepish, almost embarrassed look at her praise. How could she not want such a thing? 

“I would be honored.” 

Setting Sarah on the couch and getting the boxes stored inside the hall closet, Steve sat behind the piano. His fingers brushed over the surface, his expression unreadable. He looked almost at peace if you asked Peggy like he was touching an old friend. How often had that piano been his only company while his mother worked? 

Shaking the thought from her head, Peggy pushed the coffee table into the couch and rolled the rug up to give herself plenty of room. Sarah looked amused as she wrapped herself up in a blanket, desperately trying to fight sleep to stay awake for this performance. Not that Peggy had any doubt it would be much of one, she was dreadfully nervous. She knew it, knew what she was doing, but there was  _ something  _ about knowing Steve and his daughter was watching her that made her stomach twill with nervous energy. 

“Peggy…” He sounded just as nervous as he said her name, giving her an apologetic look when she turned to face him. His cheeks had turned a shade of red, highlighted by the light from the fire. “You never told me which…song.”

“I didn’t, did I?” That was an easy one to decide on - her personal favorite. _“Dance of the Sugar Plum.”_

Steve’s fingers hit a key, one too low and she tried not to react as he made another apologetic face. This time he was looking down at his phone and muttering to himself. She almost wanted to drape over his shoulders and kiss his cheek, to tell him it was okay if he wasn’t as good as he remembered at playing. She was just glad he was trying for her.

It took a few more tries before the broad blonde looked a bit more relaxed and in his element. He cast her a nervous look, chewing on his bottom lip. “Ready?”

Peggy had warned that this wasn’t as they were used to - a grand production of Natasha’s students. She had warned that this would be simple and nothing so fancy but she was wrong in Steve’s opinion. 

He’ll be the first to admit - he didn’t know much about dancing or the terms very well. He just knew what sounded and looked good to him, he just knew his daughter laughed to dance with her auntie. He could get by in a normal conversation with Natasha about dancing and an update on her students but beyond that, he felt rather out of his environment with it. That being said - Peggy Carter was  _ stunning.  _

* * *

As the final note faded from his side of the room, Peggy looked over to Steve. A warm look was etched on his face, a  _ proud  _ look that made her want to cry. She’s never seen a look on Fred’s face - even at their wedding. Their magical day and he wasn’t  _ happy.  _

“You were beautiful,” he whispered to her as if terrified to break this little moment between them. “I can see why Natasha hired you. You were…” He trailed off, giving a shake of his head. “Just...amazing. That’s not even enough to say it. I-I can draw, paint but for the life of me, I-I can’t even begin to describe what your- _ that _ made me feel.”

He gave a soft laugh as he stood up and crossed over to her. His hands rested on her hips as he pulled them closer together. She didn’t know how they got to be just mere inches apart once more but Peggy found suddenly every need of Steve to be closer to her. To fill that gap in between them.

A snort made them jump apart, Peggy giving a soft chuckle at Sarah asleep on the couch. The poor girl had fallen asleep at some point. 

“I’m going to tuck her into bed,” Steve whispered, giving a shake of his head. “I’ll be right back.” 

Scooping his daughter up, Peggy watched as Steve delicately carried her up the stairs, despite the pain his leg must’ve been giving him. She breathed out a soft sigh and collapsed onto the couch, rubbing a hand over her fluttering chest.

Just what was she doing? She didn’t know him nor his daughter and yet her heart  _ ached  _ for him. It ached for this little domestic life of father and daughter.

It ached for everything Fred refused to give her.

At the thought of her ex-husband, Peggy pulled her phone out for the first time that evening and frowned at Fred’s name above an unread text. No, she refused to read it and ruin her good mood. Swiping it away, she saw Micheal’s text that came through right after.

_ Look what I found. - MC _

Attached was a photo of the two of them before he shipped out, both younger and severely naive, Micheal was just a little scrump of a man. She wasn’t much better, a few inches shorter, still wearing her curls in an overdone fashion that her mother insisted on for every  _ fashionable  _ young lady. He wore a Santa hat on his head while she had the beard on, both laughing in the photo.

_ Makes me miss the old times. When I could still beat you at wrestling. - MC _

_ You never could win, even as kids. - PC _ _   
_ _ I let you win. - PC _ __   
  


Hearing Steve’s footsteps, Peggy set the phone aside and smiled at the man dressed in blue striped pajama pants and a wrinkled sleeping-shirt. He carried two more glasses of whiskey in his hand, the bottle in his other. Taking it from him, Peggy sighed into her drink.

“You look upset,” Steve mused, tucking himself in beside her with some distance. “Get a nasty text? I saw you looking at your phone.”

“Oh no, no, the opposite, really. My brother sent me a photo of us when we were younger  _ and…” _

Steve’s hand covered her own on her thigh, giving a gentle squeeze as she trailed off. The warm glow of the fire played on his eyes, bringing out the flecks of green. 

“I understand - I miss some things too but…” He nodded his head towards the stick reindeer ornament hanging dangerously on the edge of a branch. “I wouldn’t trade this for the world. Some things I think we’re supposed to miss, for the simplicity that it once was and others, we’re supposed to learn from.”

“Maybe you’re right, doesn’t make this any easier. She’s a good kid, Steven. I mean it. You...are doing an amazing job.” Her head tilts to the side at his almost sad smile, shaking his head as he throws back the glass with one hard swallow. “What is it?”

Instead of answering the question, he plucked her glass from her hand and replaced it with his own hands. “Stay with me for Christmas? You don’t have to say yes right now but I want you to think about it. Please? It breaks my heart to think you’ll be alone on Christmas.”

Feeling his calloused hands squeeze hers, Peggy gave a small laugh. “I’m afraid that if I don’t say yes, I’ll wake up to you and Sarah on my doorstep.”

“Don’t think we won’t - we’ll knock on every door until we find the fairy lady.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he threw his head back. “Thank you again for keeping that charade up - I promise it won’t last long. Sarah really likes you.”

“Funny,” she mused, rubbing the pads of her thumb over the back of his hand. “I like her too and her father. He’s a real nice man who invites strangers into his home and makes them dinner  _ and  _ lets them dance for them.”

“Don’t forget he invites you over for Christmas too.”

Her lips pursed, just to keep from laughing at his shit-eating grin expression. “That too. He also invites me over for Christmas, because he’s a huge sap.”

“I don’t know, he sounds like a really nice guy to me.” His shoulder shrugged, letting go of one of her hands to refill their glasses. “So you’ll come over? No presents necessary - Sarah has a shitload in the back of my closet.”

“I’ll come over,” Peggy sighed, giving a shake of her curls. Just what in the hell was she doing? Coming over to a stranger’s home. He doesn’t feel like a stranger. He feels like home. 

“And I’m bringing presents.”

“I expect nothing less from a gal like you.”

As he moves to sit back, Peggy frowns as his face tugs in pain. His hand is kneading at his thigh again. She moves hers to touch it but he instantly grabs at her wrist, shaking his head.

“Don’t. Do...you...uh mind if I...take it off?” Steve asked, looking all too nervous.

“Take it off? Your pants?” The alarm sounded in his voice and Steve gave a small bark of laughter that didn’t hide how nervous he sounded. 

“My prosthetic - I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. The damn thing bothers me on cold days and when I’m on it for too long.”

Peggy’s eyes softened as she nodded, giving one last squeeze of his hand before he let her go. “As long as you’re comfortable, Steven. This is your home after all.”

Steve gave another apologetic look as he rolled up the pants leg, revealing a prosthetic foot clad inside of a sock and a metal leg. He pressed a button on the side of the metal concealing the stump, pulling it off of a silicone barrier. The blonde sat both pieces aside with a sigh, letting his stump fall back to the cushion.

It was a gnarled mess of scars, pink and puffy, severe burns that traveled up midway of his thigh. She was reaching to touch before she could stop herself, Steve making a noise when she pulled her hand away.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You can touch it. It looks worst than what it is. I...owe my life to this...guy and I don’t even know his name. Funny how that works, huh?”

His head bobbed over to the glass plane on the tree. “As you saw, I...was in the military. It was a whole mess of shit but I...I rose to the rank of Captain. Lead these men - called ourselves the Howling Commandos. Sam always hated that name - cringed anytime we said it. We...we were off the books sorta group, y’know? Had our orders, did what we did, and went to the next sort of orders. Always tried to do the right thing.”

His hand fell to this face, fingers rubbing at his temples as he laid back on the couch. Peggy stayed beside him, sat up, and hands wrapped around her glass. She hung onto his every word, giving him the silence that he needed to process these thoughts.

“I don’t remember the details. I…” He picked up the glass to throw the rest back and make a grabby hand at the bottle, one Peggy provided him. “I just remember...I just remember the plane. I remember my guys, I get them all to safety, but there’s the pilot. Some...some buckshot Brit - don’t know what’s good for him. Real good pilot, been flyin’ half his life it seems like. 

Plane was filling full of smoke, tried to get the guy to jump with me. We get out of this together, but no. No, the idiot wants to crash it. Says he gotta see it through. Gotta do what’s right and see it through, sounds like he’s making up for some past mistake. I try grabbin’ him but the idiot pushes me out of the way. Next thing I know, I’m waking up two months later in the hospital with a missing leg. I was told we got hit a second take, the first one took my leg, I was in too much shock to notice. Quickest weight loss plan ever - lose a leg and you lose 20 pounds.  _ Yeah, Bucky didn’t laugh either _ .”

Peggy felt her throat tighten. She can imagine how Sarah Rogers reacted to such a call, that her baby, her son was in the hospital, fighting for his life and missing a limb. She knew how she was when she’d gotten the call about Michael in the middle of the night. His plane went down, was all she was told.

Details were classified.

“And you don’t remember who that pilot was?” She asked in a soft tone. 

Steve looked up at her with a frown before shaking his head. “Not a thing beyond his voice. Can’t really look a fella up on his voice.”

“That’s okay,” she says, reaching over to take the bottle from his hand and squeezing it. “You don’t have to remember. I...was never in the military, my brother was. His story isn’t too different from yours with a plane crash.”

“Is he…?” He made a noise, not wanting to say it. A relieved look passed over him as she nodded. “Good, good. That’s good. Same one that broke your arm as a kid?”

“The very same, believe it or not. From breaking my arm to breaking my heart when I saw him in that hospital bed. It was touch and go for a while but he pulled through.” His hand gently tugged on her shoulder, leaning her back into his body. He was much warmer than she had anticipated.

Silence enveloped them, only broken up by the crackling of the fire and Steve’s breathing. She was careful about where she laid or touched, not wanting to touch a spot that was more tender than the rest. She could imagine that he had some scars on him from his ordeal, he’d already been through enough telling her this.

“You’re alive,” Peggy sighed, breaking the silence. She shifted her head to look up at him, her hand laid out over his chest. She could feel his heart beating steadily under her touch. 

“That I am,” the man whispered, tilting his head to look down at her with a warm smile. “Took you that long to notice?”

There came that cocky, lopsided grin again. It took her breath away every time.

“Unfortunately, my senses aren’t military trained, Mr. Rogers, so it’s very possible that I could’ve missed it.” 

She didn’t miss the scoff he made nor how he inched them closer together. This close, she could count his lashes, the freckles dashing across the tip of his nose. 

Her quip, the initial start to where she was going with that statement died on her lips when Steve kissed her. She’s unsure of who kissed who first, of who pressed their body against the other first, but next thing she knows, she’s straddling his lap. His body is warm against hers and soft, unlike what she thought. 

Steve grins as he breaks the kiss, slightly out of breath and trembling. His mouth opens, she imagines to give some smart remark but she doesn’t hear it. She kisses him instead and he groans against her lips, raising his hips to ground into hers.

“As romantic as this is,” Peggy panted, letting her hand run down his chest to trace out the muscles underneath, “I think we should move this upstairs. We don’t need any  _ prying  _ elf eyes to find us on the couch.”

Steve snorted into her shoulder, letting his head thump back. “I think you’re right, let me get this thing back on.” 

“I have a better idea.”

Before Steve could protest, she climbed off of his lap and wrapped her arms underneath him. One under his long legs, the other under his shoulder. He yelped in surprise as she hoisted him to settle onto his chest, his arms around her neck. “H...holy… Pegs, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

It was her turn to roll her eyes as he threw the prosthetic onto his lap, carrying him towards the stairs. “I have multiple kids hang off of me in a given day, Steven. I think I am able to carry you up the stairs.”

The lopsided grin resurfaced as he  _ barely  _ managed to sit up, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. Peggy was right. She could certainly carry him no problem, she was proving it by leading towards the tricky stairs and taking them one at a time without breaking a sweat.

Here was the proof right here, God was a woman and that woman was Peggy Carter.

And he might be in love with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for not describing Peggy's dance. I wanted to *so* bad but nothing felt good enough to publish. Smut won't happen until the next chapter. I wanted to get this posted before New Years' so bad. The good news is the next chapter will be *all* smut.


	3. Fade Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first time Peggy's ever been with anyone whose as gentle and sweet as Steve is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure it doesn't have to be stated but just in case: This chapter is 100% smut. Like no plot beyond a mention of Fred here or there and that's just comparisons between him and Steve.
> 
> Don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. You won't miss anything if you skip this chapter.

Steve’s room was just as Peggy had pictured it - a reflection of his time spent in the military. His bed was neatly made, with the comforter tucked in so nothing touched the floor. A few personal photos lined the walls and the top of his dresser. She could make out a younger Sarah in her daddy’s arms, a younger Steve in his time in the military, someone with long brunette hair and a silver, advanced prosthetic holding Sarah on his shoulders. The rest of the room and its details melted into the background as she laid Steve on the covers, fingers reaching out to idly stroke his blonde locks away from his forehead.

Steve purred at the touch, reaching out to guide her so she was straddling his lap. He shoved the prosthetic off of him and onto the floor in time, his hands holding her by the waist with a cocky grin on those lips. 

She hated herself for loving that grin.

“I told you I could do it,” Peggy purred, bending down so their lips just barely touched one another. “And you doubted me. Shame on you, Mr. Rogers.”

“Shame on me for  _ worrying  _ about you - not doubting you, two very different things.” His hand fell to the hem of her sweater, pulling it off of her in one fluid motion.  _ “Christ. _ Look at you.”

Peggy could feel her face growing warm, not wanting to look away from Steve. She didn’t want to drop her eyes or hide her body in a manner that Fred had caused her to want to do in the rare times they did have sex. He never  _ shamed  _ her outright, but she caught a few of his comments to the  _ boys  _ and the disdained look he’d give her when he thought she wasn’t looking. 

Despite her best effort to ignore them, they seemed to have left their mark in ways she didn’t know until now. 

“What are you thinking so hard about?” 

The question sounded almost concerned, it even matched the way his brow wrinkled as his fingertips trailed over her lower stomach. Rough, calloused fingers leaving her skiing feeling prickly in the best manner.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” She shrugged her shoulders, certainly not wanting to ruin the moment with talk of her soon-to-be ex-husband. At Steve’s  _ really?  _ look, Peggy sighed and let her shoulders slump slightly. “Let’s just say...I’m not used to... _ this. _ This one-night-stand sort of deal or-or being naked in front of others. My ex, when I was naked in front of him, he never made me truly feel good or wanted. I don’t think he even  _ tried.” _

“Shame on him.” Steve’s tone took on a harder approach, cupping Peggy’s cheek so she would look at him. “Shame on that bastard for making you think you’re not enough. Let me guess, he was the type to make you top and do all the work?”

Peggy barely resisted the urge to snort while she sat on top of him, rolling her hips in a slow motion. Her hands laid on his chest, careful of how much weight she put on his body. “Sounds like you know the type. He was very much that type - and if he was on top, which was often, he just did it for him. There was very little pleasure in it for me. He’d roll over and go to sleep, so I would have to finish myself off.”

She tried to repress that shudder ran down her spine at the memory, disgusted with herself to think that was the norm she had to suffer through for so long. 

“Christ,” Steve breathed, raising his own hips to meet hers. She pretended not to notice that smirk again or her breath hitching too focused on the fact she could feel his hard cock through his thin pants.

If she had to guess he was thick and long, longer than what she was used to. Nothing too outrageous of sizes, she decided, just enough to stretch her in the manner she craved. A definite contrast to what she was used to. This time, she didn’t try to repress the shudder that came from the thought. Nor did she ignore her core  _ throbbing  _ with a need to be filled by him.

Screw this playing around and teasing, she wanted Steve and she wanted him now. 

“Is he still around?” There was a caution to his tone, a need to know, to not want to overstep a boundary, or disrespect her decision. Steve was so sweet. “We don’t have to-”

Knowing exactly what he was to say, Peggy smothered him with a long kiss, feeling the broad man’s tense shoulders slump. They shared a smile as she pulled back, rolling her hips with emphasis to trace his cock out.

“We don’t,” she agreed with a firm nod, “But I want to. He’s not around, Steven, I left him in London when I moved here. One of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

Seeming more relaxed with that answer, he pulled her down for another kiss. This one was softer than before as if he has something to prove. That he’s  _ not  _ the bastard she was with before and instead, someone new and loving. 

Rolling them over so he was on top of her, Steve’s lips trailed down to her jawline. He pressed a few tender kisses down her body, teeth nipping at a few sweet spots that made her shiver. He knew just which buttons to press to make her shiver, to  _ need  _ more. She was needy. Christ was she needy.

The look Steve gave her from between her breasts made her face flush, he was  _ wanting  _ and needy about as much as she was. A soft noise escaped her lips when he palmed at her breasts, squeezing them lightly. She tried to ignore the little smirks he was giving her, focusing instead on the kisses down her body.

Her eyes only popped open when his mouth wrapped around the fabric of the bra, suckling on her nipple. His other hand wrapped around her bra to heavily palm at it, pinching her nipple. His suckling made her  _ throb  _ but what absolutely made her body scream with need was when his teeth pressed against the sensitive bud. She was not able to help the moaning especially when his tongue lapped at the fabric. It was made even worst when he switched sides, ignoring her gasp moans and the bare amount of begging that she could get herself to do.

_ “Steven,”  _ was the only thing she could get out. Her hand buried into his hair, petting the soft, blonde locks.  _ “Please. If you don’t just fuck me…” _

The sound Steve made when he popped off of her nipple and the air hitting the wet nubs just made her whimper. She didn’t miss how he rolled his eyes with that shit-eating grin. “Shh, let me help you. I want to make this good for you, Peggy.” His index finger looped around the black strap and smiled as he worked her out of her bra, sighing in content at the sight of her hard nipples.

Every touch granted to her made Peggy a moaning mess, her skin felt like trails of fire were left in their wave from Steve’s tongues. His soft tongue and nips from his teeth made sinful noises come out of her mouth, noises she didn’t even know that she could make. 

He trailed down her body until he found a home in between her legs, looking more at home in between her jean-clad thighs than Fred ever had. Forcing the thought of her ex-husband out of her mind, Peggy shimmied out of her jeans with Steve’s help. 

Steve’s breath felt cool against the soaked cotton stretched around her frame, even warmer when his tongue pressed against the wettest part. It made her gasp and raise her hips enough to push herself into his face. It perhaps didn’t help when her hand came down and held tightly to his hair. She felt bad at the hissing sound he made but the second she pulled her hand away, Steve was reaching back to keep her hand there.

His tongue and mouth pulled away from her soaked pussy, sucking delicious bruises into her sensitive, pale thighs. She knew she’d be feeling that pain for a few days, a delicious reminder as to what had happened tonight. Anytime she crossed her legs or put the barest of pressure, she’d feel Steve there. The sharp pain cut through the fog in her mind, almost making her miss the moment when he pulled the cotton to the side and ran his tongue along her wet folds.

Oh, the sound that escaped her lips, she didn’t bother to try to damper it. It was practically sinful.

Her hands gripped at the covers, twisting them between her fingers as he wasted no time diving in. His tongue pressed deep inside of her, filling her in ways she’s only read about. His fingers dug into her thighs, squeezing the flesh and kneading it, keeping her spread open while he fucked her with rapid flicks of his tongue. She felt full in a manner that didn’t feel full at all. Too much and too little. 

Her clit  _ throbbed  _ with a desperate need to be touched.

Steve seemed to be reading her mind because he gave her what she wanted, his mouth wrapped around her delicate clit and suckled. His tongue, coated already in her juices ran along the underside of the sensitive bud, making more sounds escape her throat. She raised her hips, trying to press herself closer.

It was hard not to twist and turn on the bed, to cry out at a building orgasm happening. She could feel it. Feel it burning inside of her, feel the desperate need to release. The fire was  _ burning,  _ practically filling her veins and she wanted nothing more than to just cum. 

Selfishly, she didn’t want this moment to end either.

Her body said otherwise.

This time Peggy found the means to let go of the cover with one of her hands and slap it over her mouth to muffle the scream. Her hips raised off of the bed, Steve paying no mind as he continued to suckle. His teeth applied just that right amount of pressure she didn’t know she needed, but the tipping point? That tipping point that sent her completely over the edge? That would be his two fingers sliding inside of her and notching them in just the right  _ come hither  _ motion before she was  _ screaming  _ his name behind her hand.

Peggy felt like she was floating. Her body might as well had been drained of all its blood and had it replaced with helium. Black spots danced in her vision, her breath coming in heavy gasps behind her hand. Her body shook in post-orgasm bliss, her juices soaking her thighs and Steve’s face. She almost felt bad.

Almost.

Her head was this content, almost dizzy feeling, foggy and fuzzy, all in the same manner. She could feel her body coming back down to earth, fully aware that she was gasping and crying for air. Fully aware of how heavy her body felt laying on this bed and how Steve was slowly crawling up her frame to wrap his arms around her.

_ E _ ven his gentle touches and soothing motions of rubbing her side because she was  _ crying  _ over a blasted orgasm made her just want to cry even more. Damn him for just being so caring. 

Steve made cooing, soft sounds in the back of his throat as he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. His fingertips stroked her sweaty hair out of her face. “Are you okay?” he asked in a soft tone. “That...was intense, huh?” When all she could just manage to do was nod, his smile grew and he kissed her again. She could taste herself on his lips, it shouldn’t have made her throb with need in the way it did. “You taste amazing.”

“Thank you, Steven, that was...amazing but it’s your turn now.”

Steve’s mouth opened to protest, she imagined but the second that Peggy was straddling him, after removing the rest of his clothes, he snapped it shut and raised his hips to meet hers. She watched his cock bob between her thighs. He was as she imagined, long and thick. He had a natural curve to his shaft, his uncut, broad head already purple and leaking with need. 

_ The poor thing.  _

“Ready?” Peggy breathed, grounding herself against his cock. His soft gasps and wordlessly jerking his head told her all she needed to know. 

With his help, she lined herself up, his eyes on hers. His entire body was tense as she slowly slid down his length, her hand settling on his chest. She gripped at the muscle in her fingers, gritting her teeth. She was full. Almost too damn full. Throbbing and aching sort of full. Full in the best manner. 

Steve was still beneath her, eyes closing tightly as he gripped at her hips, almost bruisingly tight. He held her there as she sunk, feeling her chest tighten. She was aching in the best manner. She took his entire length, settling firmly down on his hips. 

Peggy was sure if she pressed on her belly she’d be able to feel his cock there. 

Opening her eyes to look at him, she saw the look that crossed his face. This pleasured, cat got the cream look. He even made  _ that  _ look hot. 

“You okay?” he breathed, reaching up to cup her jawline. “You don’t have to... _ fuck…”  _

His protest died on his lips as she squeezed her muscles around him, making his hips jerk and thrust inside of her. Peggy tried to pretend that a loud moan didn’t escape her. 

_ Fuck -  _ she was warm and tight. Everything about her practically drove him insane but this was new. This was different. Her pussy wrapped around him like a blanket, he could feel every pulse and twitch of her muscle. She was purposely trying to milk him and she damn well might get her wish. He was so close to cumming right here and now. 

He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled on his lips at the feel of her nails digging into his chest. He hissed as her nails found his sensitive nipples, squeezing them and causing his hips again to jerk up into hers. She made the prettiest sounds.

Cupping the back of Peggy’s head, Steve brought her down closer so he could kiss her. He moaned into her mouth as she set a slow manner of moving her hips. He could feel her tracing every inch of his aching cock, squeezing in just the right spots to make him want to plow into her. It was the best kind of torture. 

He distracted himself by kissing her, hot and heavy. Moaning needily into her mouth. His teeth and mouth marked down her neck, sucking on that one spot on her collarbone that made her hips jerk out of their slow pace. She slammed her hips down and threw her head back. 

Those sound she made, they were the prettiest and yet dirtiest things he’s ever heard. He never not wanted to hear them. He wanted to embed those in his mind, with her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she saw the Christmas tree, or even when she teased him. 

_ Damnit.  _ He’d only spent a few hours in her company and she felt like home.

Taking her tit in one of his hands, he cupped it and squeezed it. Her small hitch of breath that had  _ nothing  _ to do with the fact he thrust his hips inside of her made him chuckle. The noise stopped as he focused on the task at hand, wrapping his lips around her hard nipple and suckling. He let his teeth bite down just enough for her to feel it as he suckled, feeling her body shudder at the sensation. His tongue flickered over the nub, moaning in the back of his throat.

All the while she set the face to fucking him, increasing the speed to her own desire. She squeezed his nipples, running her nails over the buds. He couldn’t help the muffled noises that came from him or how his hips jerked on their own free will. She was playing him like a fiddle. 

Moving his hands from her breast to her ass, he squeezed the handful of cheeks. His thrusts didn’t stop, using her ass as leverage to keep up the pace. He didn’t hear a complaint coming from her. Just breathless moans on both ends, one muffled and one not even trying to muffle herself anymore.

The rewards of her noises, rough and pitched was enough for him. It was enough to pop off of her one tit and give favor to the other one. 

_ “That’s it,”  _ Peggy sighed, trying to pretend she wasn’t breathless. He could hear her breath hitching with every other moan. “There’s a good boy for me.”

_ Fuck,  _ he tried to pretend  _ that _ didn’t get to him. It certainly didn’t send a shiver down his spine or made his cock  _ throb  _ dangerously hard inside of her. He was too damn close too. He could feel it. Feel the warmth spreading inside of him, his stomach burning, and his balls tightening. He didn’t want this to end.

_ “Steven,”  _ Peggy’s groan damn well just about ended it for him. She settled back onto him, taking control back by laying the palms of her hands fully onto his chest and shoving him back down. He grunted as he hit the bed, knowing the look he had on his face emphasized the warmth he felt for her. 

And how turned on he was by her doing that.  _ Fuck.  _

Her hips snapped hard down, watching her tits jiggle in his face from the force. He could feel how tight she was, how hard she was squeezing him. She was close. 

Despite being pushed down onto the bed, Steve sought her mouth out. Whining pitifully as their lips met. It wasn’t enough to just kiss her, to feel her bouncing on his cock. Her tits were pressed against his, hands back on her ass to take the control back. Damn the control-he just wanted to push her over the edge. He wanted to give her the best orgasms in her life. 

Screw that other guy she was with, he didn’t know how to pleasure a lady as beautiful as Peggy.

The orgasm was budding. It was right there for both of them. Her walls were trembling, his balls were tightening. The liquid fire was filling his veins. He didn’t want this to end, but damnit it was going to end. It was going to end in an explosive matter, far as his body was concerned.

_ “Peggy,”  _ was the only thing Steve got to breathe in a warning. 

That was just seconds before the flood gates opened.

Before he was screaming her name, only muffled by Peggy’s quick thinking and kissing him. Her own moan filled him, he could feel it as he hugged her frame to him. As her walls tightened around his throbbing cock, painting them with his cum.

Feeling his body lose all energy, he slumped back into the bed, too afraid to let go of her. 

If he did, she might disappear.

Blinking back the few tears of  _ relief _ , Steve rolled them to their sides, hooking Peggy’s leg over his hip to keep them joined together. He liked the warmth she offered, the closeness of this position. He was selfish and didn’t want to pull out. 

She looked blissed-out, breath coming in soft, ragged gasps. 

God, she was absolutely beautiful.

Stroking her sweat-soaked hair out of her face, Steve bent close to her to press a kiss to her lips. “Do me a favor?” he whispered. She made a soft noise, nose against his neck. “Don’t leave.”

That certainly caught her attention. Her eyes were wide as she pulled away, reading his face. Slowly she nodded, her free hand cupping his face to wipe a stray tear away. “Of course I won’t leave,” she whispered, kissing his nose. “I won’t do that to you.”

She pressed a long kiss to his lips, her hand finding his to intertwine their fingers together. “Sleep,” she ordered. “I’ll be right here, darling.”

_ Funny enough, he trusted she would be. _

* * *

Morning came far too early for Peggy’s liking. She was not a morning person by any means. Even if the morning meant waking up to the sight of a Steve Rogers laying naked beside her in bed. Oh, he was beautiful in the early morning light, sunlight streaming to hit his hair and light it up in golden strands. It lit up his broad chest, small red marks from just hours ago still on his skin.

“Morning,” he whispered, face just inches from hers. He smiled softly at her and pecked her lips, nose brushing lightly over hers.

“Morning,” she replied, rubbing her nose against his. She stretched her limbs in a cat-like manner, feeling her bones pop as she did so. Despite the early awakening, this is the first time she’d felt well-rested since arriving in Brooklyn. And by the looks of it the first time Steve Rogers has gotten some sleep in some time too.

As much as she wanted to spend the quiet morning in bed, the soft sounds from a few rooms down the hall told her their quiet morning wouldn’t be so quiet in just a few minutes. Steve smirked as he pecked her lips and slowly crawled out of bed. He used the wall for support, ignoring their clothes and the leg on the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Peggy mused, watching him with a small frown.

“Oh, I’m sorry do I need permission to leave my own bed and take a shower?” He rolled his eyes but there was that fond smile on his lips again.

“Yes.” She pouted as she rolled out of bed, forcing herself to do so. Steve getting up meant they had to start their day. 

“Fine then -  _ may  _ I go shower, Miss Carter? You’re welcome to join me. I have a shower bench and all. It’ll be quick.”

“Quick or a quickie?”

The flush along Steve’s neck and the tips of his ears was well worth the pillow tossed in her direction. As was the sight of his ass when he walked away.

“Are you coming?” Steve called over his shoulder, pulling Peggy from staring bluntly at his ass.

Even as she slowly towel-dried her hair (she could practically feel her mother cringing at the knowledge her daughter was doing this), watching Steve put ointment on the stump and slide everything back on for the prosthetic, one thought lingered. It was the thought she was suddenly looking forward to her first Christmas in Brooklyn.

And it might have something to do with a rambunctious, little girl and her father who  _ insisted  _ they walk her home this morning on the way to Mama Sarah’s house. 


	4. Annulment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds out the truth about Peggy's previous relationships.

_ “You didn’t,”  _ Micheal groaned into the camera, slapping his hand down on the table. “Margaret Carter, tell me you didn’t.”

“I don’t have to tell you a damn thing,” Peggy huffed with an eyeroll. She turned from the camera to continue to weave the tinsel in between her braided hair. “But if you  _ must  _ know, I did. Would you like to know the details, Micheal? I can tell you about how he-”

_ “Ew, no. No. Stop it!  _ You are disgusting, I didn’t want to know when we were teens and I don’t want to know now _.  _ Even if soldier boy sounds sort of hot... _ ”  _

Peggy’s laugh died in her throat as she turned back to the screen, finding Micheal staring fondly at her with a look in his eyes. “What? Why are you giving me that look? Tell me if I look ridiculous, you  _ have  _ to tell me if I look ridiculous.”

“No, no you look fine, Pegs. It’s just...you’re in love.” He was smiling stupidly at her, hand curling under his chin to give her that trademark stupid smile of his. “I missed this, I almost forgot what it was like to see you so happy. Not content or lying your ass off to please Fred.” 

Putting the lipstick down, Peggy smiled fondly. Her brother was right - she was in love, she was, dare she say it,  _ happy. _ “Yeah, I...I really like him and it feels so foolish of me to say. We’re adults, we’re not teens! He has a kid but I feel like a school girl all over again with this silly crush.”

“I don’t think it’s silly, not when you’re buying him a star for his tree - that’s basically an engagement ring in our family! It’s just good to see you happy, Pegs.” 

Micheal sighed in content as he kicked back in the chair, just in time as the camera was picked up to swing him around. “You wanna tell me more about soldier-boy?” 

“It’s just a star, it doesn’t mean anything. I just thought it would be nice, is all.”

Peggy ignored her brother snorting at her in disagreement as she stalked into the kitchen, setting the phone down on the counter. He wasn’t wrong, she was in love and buying a star for the top of the tree, that was a tradition in their family that normally lead to engagements. 

_ Normally  _ but since when did she follow her family’s traditions.

“He’s just so sweet and adorable. He creates cartoons for a living and helps his neighbors out. I caught him the other morning shoveling his neighbor’s sidewalk so she could get to work on time.  _ Oh,  _ his little girl thinks I’m part fairy and-”

_ “Hold on, hold on…”  _ His snorting laughter made Peggy scoff. “A fairy? She thinks you’re a fairy?”

“Honestly, how are you so immature?” She tried to school her face until she couldn’t and started to laugh too. “It was just a silly idea, but she’s a little girl who wants to believe in magic. I certainly can’t take that away from her. What’re a few white lies, as long as she’s happy? Besides, Steve doesn’t seem to mind and in fact, I think he likes it.”

_ “Oh,” _ she perked up before Micheal could continue to make fun of her most recent choices. “Did I tell you that he ran with a group called the Howling Commandos while he was serving? He’s like you, honestly, too stubborn when it comes to his prosthetic. He lost it in a plane crash, just like you did. Isn’t that odd - you two…” 

The words slowly trailed off when she realized Micheal wasn’t listening to her. His brow was knitted together in deep thought, his left hand drumming along one of the more visible burn scars on his jaw.

As quickly as the look came over the man, he was suddenly relaxed against the office chair, giving a cheesy smile like nothing had happened. “I’m sorry, I sorta zoned out there, didn’t I? That name just sounds familiar.” He leaned back and let out a loud groan as he stretched his limbs, the phone being picked up as he swung away from the table. “Anyway, Pegs, this guy sounds great. I am so happy for you, I know you’ll keep him on his toes. Or what’s left of them.”

The man’s forced, barking laugh was drowned out by the sound of knocking on her front door. He stopped laughing at once, his shoulders rigid when the door slammed open and a blur of red and silver bounded towards her.

Peggy found herself being hugged by an overexcited, bouncing Sarah, just able to give her brother an apologetic look at the interruption. “Sarah, love, where’s your father?”

“H-here,” answered the grunting, pained voice. A Christmas tree blocked her vision, a pair of work boots sticking out underneath the needles. “Sarah, did you barge inside Peggy’s house? I  _ told  _ you-”

“Wow,” Micheal breathed, drawing Peggy back to the fact that her brother was still on call with her. “When you said that your boyfriend was built and hot, I didn’t think you meant an actual talking Christmas Tree. They really do got everything in New York, huh?”

Even without seeing Steve’s face, Peggy knew that Steve was flushing, and damnit so was she. Her cheeks were burning. She grabbed at the phone and sent her brother a look, rushing to help lead Steve around the small counter and into her living room.

“Hush you,” she told Micheal, ignoring how hot her face was. “No one asked for your input.”

“No, but you took it anyway. Look at you, you’re all blush. I can see you’re busy, so I’m going to let you go. Have fun, Pegs.”

Before Peggy could lecture him on the etiquettes of not being an annoying older brother and embarrassing her to her...to Steve, Micheal had hung up, leaving them in silence. She avoided Steve’s eyes as she helped him set the tree down and grabbed at the small boxes he had brought with him.

“What….um….what is this?” Peggy breathed, waving at the tree that he had safely tucked into the corner. It sat right beside her bay window, Steve was now burying himself inside the needles to fluff it out and secure the trunk to the stand.

“Daddy said that you didn’t have a Christmas Tree,” Sarah mused in an  _ I’m-innocent  _ tone, drawing Peggy’s attention. “I asked if we could get you one and help you decorate it. Look we even got you ornaments!”

She took one of the boxes from the bag and pulled out a pink, purple, and green ornament, holding it up to Peggy’s face. The bright smile Sarah wore was more than enough for the older woman to get over her minor embarrassment.

For now.

Steve’s face was all flush as he finally faced her, having spent far too much time fluffing the tree out. He rubbed at the back of his neck and his shoulders shrugged as if to brush off this whole thing. “Well…” His tongue darted out and Peggy couldn’t help but watch as it ran across his lips. “You didn’t have a tree and I wanted to change that, I hope it’s okay.”

Christ, he was adorable.

“Of course it’s okay,” Peggy finally breathed, shaking her head. She looked down at Sarah and handed her the glitter-coated ornament back. “It’s more than okay. I-I love it. You two are so…” She trailed off and gave a happy, small sigh. “Thank you.”

“Can we start decorating it, pleeease? Daddy can do the lights, he’s real good at it! We don’t have a tree topper but daddy says that we can go look at one today for your tree if you want!” Sarah was practically jumping up and down, still holding the ornament tenderly in her hands. 

“Of course you can, darling. Why don’t you start putting the ornaments on the tree? I think I have some lights stores in my bedroom closet, Steve do you mind?”

_ “So,”  _ Steve sighed, once they were standing in her terribly small bedroom. There was just enough room for the queen-sized bed and her dresser. “About what your brother said…”

“Micheal Carter is nothing but a pratt,” she grumbled, ignoring her face tinting red. She stood on a step ladder, pushing boxes aside to try to read the labels in the far back. “I know I have some lights back here, I bought them when I first moved here - intended to decorate the house and all.”

“Peggy.” Damnit. Why did he sound so good saying her name like that? “Come on. How much have you told your brother about me?”

Giving up on finding that box, Peggy sighed as she pulled her upper half out of the closet and turned to look at Steve. Being a few inches taller than him now, she could see the sweep in his hair, the very light touches of darker streaks that hid under the lighter ones. Her hand closed around the top of the closet to keep herself from falling, biting the inside of her lip.

“Everything that is public knowledge. If what Micheal said bothered you, then please ignore him. I wasn’t sure-”

“No, no, no.” Steve’s baby blue eyes were wide in panic, hands raised to stop her from wobbling. His fingers closing around her waist shouldn’t make her shiver like that. “What he said didn’t bother me, I just…”

He quickly let go and took a step back, his face flushing darker. She watched with fascination as it started at the nape of his neck and worked its way up. “I didn’t know how to ask and had this plan too, later tonight at the-the…” He waved his hand towards her front door. He shouldn’t be this adorable being flustered. 

_ “Will you be my girlfriend?”  _ he finally choked out.

The pile of boxes that she had shoved aside decided it was a fine moment to fall onto Peggy right at this moment, knocking her from the step ladder. They were nothing more than a few hat boxes, a small plastic bin, but it was enough to knock her from her feet. 

It was excellent timing on Steve’s part to catch her before she hit the floor, grinning as she leaned into his chest. 

“Yes,” Peggy sighed, cupping Steve’s cheek. “I will be your girlfriend.” She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, only to be broken apart when the contents of the last box fell into her lap. Peggy grinned as she held up a strand of multi-colored Christmas lights. “I found the lights.”

* * *

_ Okay _ , so perhaps Micheal was right, not that Peggy would ever admit that to his face. The guy had a big enough ego and didn’t need her to inflate it anymore. She was in love. She was in love with Steven and his little girl, who had wrapped around her pinkie as much as Steve was. She was in love with them and couldn’t be happier. 

It had only been a few short days and Peggy  _ knew  _ she was in love with this man. It was a fierce type of love that she had never felt with Fred or some boyhood crush before. This was different.

Not that she was ready to tell Steve.

She found herself smiling without prompting. She felt more alive in the most recent days than she has in weeks,  _ years _ . Natasha even saw the difference during their weekly coffeeshop catchups, where they talked about anything and everything but the plan to redo the dance studio’s colors. 

Just about every waking moment was spent with the father and daughter duo. She would come over for lunch or dinner and wound up staying the night, just to repeat it the next morning. Nearly half her wardrobe had to be in Steve’s closet by now. 

Steve worked from home now that Sarah was home for winter vacation. He had a little office set up in one of the smaller bedrooms, something he sheepishly showed her around when Sarah had gone to bed.

It was roughly half the size of Peggy’s own bedroom, which was saying something. There was enough room for Steve’s desk that held his work utensils of a monitor and a tablet. A storyboard was pinned to the wall. As she stepped closer to peer at the board, she found her face suddenly colliding with Steve’s chest. It started to rumble with his laughter as his arms closed around her. 

“You don’t want to see that,” Steve snorted into her hair. “It’s just some boring design that no one will agree to.”

“I highly doubt that - anything you make is not boring,” Peggy countered, pulling back just enough to give him a pout and a peck on the lips.

That seemed to melt his reserve enough because he slowly let his arms drop from her side, just for the tips of his ears to start to turn pink. “I...well this is something new. Something Mr. Stark doesn’t even know about yet. I got the idea - I should’ve asked but…” 

He sighed and nervously handed her a sheet. “Do you remember that story you told over dinner? About your great-aunt who flew planes in World War Two? Well, I, uh...I took some ideas and ran with them. I was going to ask before I told anyone about it!” 

Looking down at the paper, Peggy saw a few simple sketches of facial expressions. Some were just eyes and a mouth, hands drawn this way and that, but the most detailed one that Steve had put his heart and soul into was a detailed sketch that looked like  _ her.  _ The hair was set more into a Victorian Curl and she had a pair of goggles stashed around her head. 

“Aunt Maggie,” Peggy breathed, feeling her eyes growing misty. “You know I was named after her and people always told me I looked just like her. Steven, she would be honored. I think it's a grand idea. Mr. Stark would be a fool if he didn’t accept it.”

The last she expected was Steve to cup her cheek and pull her into a deep kiss - not that she was complaining. She laughed as they parted and he carefully pinned the photo back into place. 

“Now just to figure out a storyline,” he sighed, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they looked at the different sketches of planes and a skinny, small man who looked an awful lot like a younger version of Steve.

* * *

_ Sarah is going to stay at ma’s overnight, meaning you and I get to have some alone time tonight. SR _ _   
_ _ I’ll pick up some take out and we can stay at your place if you want. SR _

_ That sounds lovely. Chinese? PC _

_ Chinese sounds perfect. SR _

_ [Half an hour later] Unfortunately I’m going to be a little late with dinner. Mr. Stark called me and he’s open to hear about my idea with the comic. I’m sorry. SR _

_ Steven this is the last thing you should be apologizing for. This is what you’ve been wanting. I can be patient. PC _

_ Just text me when you’re on your way. While you’re here, can you please fix this dripping pipe? I’ve tried everything beyond ripping out all my plumbing. PC _

Steve paused in the doorway to Peggy’s home, carefully balancing the toolbox, bag of takeout, and the bouquet all in one hand so he could get the door open. The second the door was shut, he could hear crying. 

Peggy was in the kitchen, her shoulders hunched as she leaned over the counter. He could hear her soft, frustrated sobs. She didn’t know he was inside yet.  _ Fuck.  _

_ “...shit, bullshit, Marge! That’s fuckin’ bullshit.”  _ The voice on the phone was slurring like he was drunk. There was an echo of metal clanging around and a glass shattering. It made him flinch and he could see Peggy’s shoulders shaking more.  _ “You didn’t even want kids! You lied to me! You ran away and lied!” _

“No, Fred, I did no such thing.” The cold tone even made Steve still in the doorway. His hand had found the counter near the doorway to hold onto. This felt wrong to listen to but he couldn’t just leave. 

“I did not lie to you,” Peggy said firmly. “I did not abandon you or run away or whatever word you want to use to make yourself seem like the victim here. I found a life for myself outside of your and mother’s expectations. I-”

_ “You’re nothing. Nothing. Who do you think will want you? Who do you think will want to handle your brute, ‘I’m-a-woman-so-respect-me’ attitude. No one. You were lucky I wanted to marry you, that I was paid to marry the likes of you.” _

Steve saw red. 

“No,” Steve replied in a harsh tone, stalking up so just the counter was between him and Peggy and the dickhead on the phone. “That’s where you’re wrong. I want her, I want Peggy, and even if it wasn’t as my girlfriend, it would be as my friend. I don’t know who in the hell you are, buckster but you’re a real piece of shit if you think you can control the likes of Peggy Carter. She did wisely to get away from you because otherwise, I would beat your face in.”

Peggy jumped at Steve’s approach the phone held in a deathly tight grip in her hand. Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy from her frustrated crying. Her lips pressed into a firm line and all she could do was shake her head.

_ “Just who in the hell-” _

“Listen here,” Peggy breathed into the phone but her eyes locked with Steve. “I am not some little girl you think you can push around and control with some-some unrealistic idea of me playing housewife. I am tired of discussing this with you, so sign the goddamn paperwork, Fred, or I’ll get my lawyers on it.”

The second she hung up, she dropped the phone. The only thing that prevented it from making a meeting to the ground was Steve’s swift hand. He was still seeing red, chest aching as he breathed harshly. His hand reached out to touch her cheek but Peggy jerked away.

“Pegs,” he breathed, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I-”

“You had no right!” Peggy snapped, stomping her foot. A few more tears ran down her face, tears she didn’t bother to wipe off. “You don’t need to fight my battles for me, Steven. I can handle myself just fine. Just-just…leave.”

“Pegs, I wasn’t trying to fight your battles. I’m  _ so  _ sorry, I-”

She didn’t want to hear it. Steve blinked and let his hand drop as she turned on her heels and stalked out of the kitchen, the bedroom door slamming in their wake. He sighed as he hung his head and pressed the heels of his hand into his eyes. 

_ Fuck. _

He was an idiot. He shouldn’t have said a damn thing, he knew he shouldn’t but hearing how this  _ Fred  _ talked to her, how could he not want to say anything?

And she was married to that asshole  _ \- still? _

He was dating a married woman?

_ Fuck.  _

* * *

He didn’t leave, not that Peggy expected him to. Steve was too stubborn for his own good sometimes but so was she. She took one last look in the mirror, deciding her appearance was going to be what it was going to be. There was nothing she could do about her swollen eyes.

Steve was in the kitchen by the time she came out, setting a wrench back into his toolbox. A bouquet of roses and sunflowers sat up on the counter, next to her phone. She eyed the half-wrapped present she was attempting to wrap before Fred had called, it looked like Steve hadn’t messed with it. 

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said when he saw her. His eyes trailed from her puffy eyes, down to the sweats and t-shirt she wore. He came closer to her, just inches apart and she could see how much he wanted to hold her. How much he needed the contact.

Christ, she needed it too.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she mumbled into his chest, pressing herself against him. She could feel his entire body folding into his. “You were just…”

“Being an idiot,” He finished with a shrug of his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have said anything, that was your phone call. I should’ve just left.”

Pulling back, Peggy gave a smile as she cupped Steve’s stubbled cheek. Her thumb traced over a faint scar. “I’m sorry, Steven. I’m so sorry for  _ all  _ of this. For you to hear that to-to find out about him. I should’ve told you…”

She stopped rambling and took in a deep breath to calm herself. How could he still look at her with love and adoration in those baby blue eyes? “This is my fault, Steven. You deserve to know everything before we...if you want to...continue this relationship.”

“Okay,” Steve said simply like nothing else can change his mind. “We can talk.”

Setting out their fried rice and orange chicken, Steve made a face as he poured the wine and sat down across from her. His hand immediately sought hers, rubbing the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. “Okay,” he sighed. “Let’s talk. Whose...Fred?”

Peggy’s eyes fell to the steaming plate in front of her, her appetite gone. “Fred Well is the son of a family friend. It’s news to me that he was given a share of my father’s company if he married me. He’s, unfortunately, my husband.”

Steve’s eyes never left hers, his face was stoic. 

_ Crud.  _

“We met when I had just turned eighteen at some family party. I’d like to say we hit it off and it’s been a grand smash since then, but in truth, it hasn’t. It was horrible. I barely spoke a word and he did all the speaking, wouldn’t let me get a word in even if I tried. Dating was less fun, he would get onto me if I stepped out of line, if I didn’t dress in a certain fashion for him. I’m not even sure at what point my mother stepped in to  _ assist  _ me in our dates.

He asked me to marry him in front of our friends and family, everyone but Micheal. I was pressured to say yes, I am not even sure why I did. Maybe I agreed because my mother insisted. It was what was for the best and I…” She sighed and dropped her hand from Steve’s to rub where a ring should’ve been.

“I don’t love him. I never loved him. He expected me to be some housewife, if I was to have a job it was to be a secretary so I would be home in time to fix him dinner. When my-my brother got hurt and was in the hospital, he still expected me to go about things as normal. I should’ve been home to cook him dinner, not crying over Micheal’s lifeless form. I don’t love him, I never could. I don’t...I don’t even know what was that snapping point. 

I didn’t even have a job lined up, Steven, I just left! I ran away, like some fool in the middle of the night to chase after a dream. I ran away, leaving my whole family behind after being told for so long how-how worthless I was, how I was to behave a certain way, and for the first time in a long, long while, I tasted freedom. I could be myself. I could sleep in, I didn’t have to cook bloody anchovies and pasta. I could order pizza or get fast food and listen to  _ real  _ music and dance. I hadn’t danced since I’ve seen him.

I  _ don’t  _ love him. You do believe me, right?”

Steve’s eyes had never left her face, nor had he interrupted. In fact, he hadn’t even picked up his fork. His hand was still laid open on the table for her to take. Slowly he blinked and gave a short, jerking nod.

“You haven’t given me any reason why I shouldn’t believe you, Pegs. Of course, I believe you.” The relief on her face was imminent, as much as it was in her chest. The sense of relief made her feel almost sick. “Of course I believe you, else you wouldn’t be here. You…”

  
The chair made a loud noise as he got up and walked around the short table, kneeling next to her. His hand found its way back into hers and he pressed a long kiss to her temple. “Of course I believe you. You’ve been through hell, had other people dictate your life. You deserve this freedom. You deserve not to have others tell you how to live your life. Of course, I believe you don’t love that bastard. No one can love that piece of shit.”

Peggy felt the wet sob escape her throat before she was aware that she was crying. She turned her face into Steve’s shoulder and melted into him.  _ Relief. _ That’s all she could feel, just relief flooding her muscles, turning her into jelly.

  
She felt safe against Steve, a feeling she can’t say she ever felt with Fred.

“Thank you,” was all she can manage in a choked tone. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s not like you lied, Pegs.” Steve straightened her back up in the chair and used the end of his sleeve to clean her face up. “It’s okay, alright? I believe you and you and I will fix this.”

_ And I love you,  _ her mind supplemented for her, when all she could do was nod. 

After a long minute of both of them staring at one another, Steve pressed a kiss to her lips before returning to his seat. “I know men like Fred and I know you’re serious about that divorce, we’ll get a lawyer on this. I know a person who can help.” 

_ We.  _

Such a simple term that made her heart blossom and Peggy felt her throat tighten as she tried to swallow a bite of the cold rice. She washed it down with wine, looking dead at the plates. “You don’t have to...to do all this if you don’t want to. Knowing Fred, he won’t sign the papers and make himself the victim. The-the help will be appreciated. Let me guess it’s Natasha?”

Steve laughed. A loud, booming laugh that startled both of them. “She’s a woman of many, many scary talents but that is not one of them, unfortunately.  _ Besides..”  _ His hand squeezed hers and he nudged her plates to encourage her to eat. “I do want to help you, it’s why I offered.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” She asked, giving a shake of her head.

Steve’s broad shoulders shrugged as he let go of her hand in favor of his wine. “Marry a shithead of a man but don’t worry - we’ll get this fixed together. Now, onto a happier note...ma knows about you. She wants to meet you over Christmas.”

And just like that, Steve had turned an anxiety-ridden moment into something distracting.

Christmas was just around the corner and with everything happening so fast, Peggy could feel her throat tightening. All she could do was cram a bite in. “And she’s...fine with...me? And Christmas? It’s your holiday.”

“Our holiday,” Steve corrected nonchalantly. “Besides, if you don’t show up, Sarah will be disappointed. She talks about you all the time.”

Peggy blinked, setting the fork down. “Sarah talks about me…?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve laughed. “All the time. I don’t think she stops talking about you, honestly. She loves you. She’s really upset she fell asleep during that dance, the poor thing.”

Clearing her throat, she looked back up at Steve. This night hadn’t gone how she wanted but she was glad he was here and now he knew. “Well, perhaps we can do something about that, don’t you think? I know my lil’ girls and boys in class were upset it was canceled too.”


	5. Sugar Plum Fairy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise is a promise, after all.

_"_ _English, you have got to get up.”_ Natasha’s voice was muffled from under the pillow Peggy had shoved her phone. “Don’t make me get your boyfriend to wake you up.”

“Steve is right beside me,” Peggy grumbled into the pillow, her hand flapping in the empty space beside her. Without Natasha even speaking, she knew the woman was smirking.  _ “Shut up. _ Where’d Steve go?”

“I imagine he’s on his way back to come get you, so get up, get dressed, and meet me down at  _ Widow’s _ .”

Natasha was, as always, right because five minutes later, Peggy was met at the front door to Steve’s home with a kid-less Steve and a cup of coffee and a steaming bag of donuts. She blinked tiredly up at him, regretting staying up far too late to put on the finishing touches on Sarah’s present. 

“Where’s Sarah?” She asked around the mouthful of cream-filled donut. Steve looked all too amused to be wiping the power off of her cheek with his thumb as he drove her into town. “Last I remember you had a kid. I tucked her into bed last night.”

“Or you had a really bad fall,” he teased, making her shoot him a look. Steve chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “She’s with ma today. She’s all too happy to help with the desserts mama Sarah is bringing over tomorrow- plus, she knew we were going to be busy running around today.”

“Why do I get the feeling everyone knows where we’re going but me?”

“That’s the definition of a surprise, besides - I’m just the messenger. Natasha is the one who planned this.”

“Messenger and retrieval, kidnapper if I want to add that on too.”

Steve faux a hurt look as he pulled into the studio’s parking lot. “Kidnapper? I brought you donuts!”

“Correction, you bated me out of a warm bed and home with coffee and donuts.” At his pouting look, Peggy grinned and leaned over to kiss him on the lips. “And I’m thankful. Now...let’s go see what the lady wanted.”

Natasha was already waiting for them inside the lobby. The lobby to their newly renovated studio, a studio that now felt almost twice as big as it had before. Peggy could feel her jaw dropping as they hugged, shaking her head in disbelief.

The ugly flooring had been replaced with soft carpet, the walls painted a soft gray and pink with a bulletin board that displayed their upcoming events besides the door. A few cozy chairs and a couch lined the wall, the coffee table had been replaced with a newer, glass one and held a few magazines. In a section of glass behind a few of the chairs sat a kid’s area with a TV and toys.

“This is... _ Natalia, I thought…” _

Natasha laughed at Peggy’s speechless expression, hugging her tighter. “Well, Steve did call and offered his help.”

Peggy turned to him, seeing the man she  _ loved  _ holding the bag of donuts, a container of coffee, with black bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted but so pleased with himself. All she could do was detach herself from Natasha and hug him around the neck. “You are an amazing, amazing man,” she breathed, kissing him square on the lips.

“I hope those are for me,” Natasha mused, plucking a coffee and donut from Steve’s hold. “You two can make out later, let me show you the rest.”

Before Peggy was even allowed to question, she was taken by the hand and dragged out of the lobby by Natasha.

The studio had been vastly improved, a whole nother dance studio was added, in addition to a larger storage closet. Their names were etched on the doors,  _ Natasha, Peggy, and Bucky.  _

The rooms were designed the same, except for a few details. The walls were still painted the warm gray colors, large silhouettes done in black of little kids, older kids, or adults were painted on the walls adjacent to the mirrors, depending on whose room they were in. The flooring had been replaced with a freshly waxed hard floor, no longer bubbling from water damage. 

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Peggy breathed as they were lead back to the lobby. “This is all amazing, Natasha. Better than I could have ever expected.”

“You say that now but you haven’t seen the best part.” Natasha’s knowing smirk made her heart flutter and Steve’s forced stoic look despite his ears turning a shade of pink only baited her curiosity even more.

“Ready?” Steve mused, his hand held out to Peggy. “We’ll meet Natasha there. Don’t ask, you’ll ruin the surprise.” 

* * *

There were a hundred and one questions flooding Peggy’s mind, from the short ride from the studio to the community college. The questions only grew as she was lead into the auditorium, hundreds of empty seats lead up to a stage where two people crowded around a few painted displays. 

She immediately recognized from the distance the long, shaggy-haired guy as Natasha’s boyfriend and Steve’s best friend. It was the blonde hair guy with purple aids that was waving the paintbrush in Bucky’s direction that she guessed to be Clint.

“There she is!” Clint’s voice boomed around them, his long legs carrying him off of the stage so he bounded in front of them. Over his shoulder, she could see Bucky rolling his eyes and giving a grin. “The woman of the hour! Steve and Natasha haven’t shut up about you!”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Steve’s face flushing as he started to push Clint back towards the stage.

“Now hold on, what have they’ve been saying about me?” Peggy interrupted, making Steve groan. 

“Oh, just that Steve is utterly and fully in love with you,” Bucky answered for them, given Steve had clamped a hand over Clint’s mouth so he couldn’t speak.

“I hate you - all of you,” Steve grumbled, letting go of Clint when he licked his hand. He rubbed his hand into his jeans, rolling his eyes. “Can we just get this done?”

Peggy tried to ignore her heart lurching into her throat, taking a too-long sip of her cold coffee. Steve was staring at her with a soft expression, shaking his head slowly. 

“Ignore them,” he mumbled. “They’re just being idiots.

“I’m quite fond of idiots.” She stood on her toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, her fingertips gently stroking his jawline. “What are they painting? It looks like snowy trees.”

Steve’s face lit up as he turned on his heels, taking her by the hand to take her on stage. Upon closer inspection, it was snowy trees that were delicately painted, with a dusting of snow on top. Clint was standing on a step stool to put the final touches of textured dusting. Bucky had started to set the displays that finished drying up on their stands.

She blinked slowly, looking around at the displays. Her hand held tighter to his, swallowing. “You did...all this?”

“With some help. You...said you wanted to dance, and well-” He shrugged slightly, rubbing over the back of his neck. “Wanted to give you that.”

If Peggy didn’t love this man beforehand, she did now. Her heart felt like it was going to bust out of her chest as she pulled him down for another kiss, ignoring their company.  _ “I love you,”  _ she murmured into his chest. 

If Steve heard her, he said nothing and maybe she preferred it that way.

* * *

“What is all that noise?” Micheal groaned, rubbing at his temples. She could see the headache coming on from the loud noises around her. Steve was getting the piano set up, the set was just starting to be finished and Natasha was making loud phone calls. It was overwhelming, honestly.

“Hang on, let me step outside.” The air felt like it had ice in it, making her tremble as she stepped outside. It was better she braved the cold than have Micheal get a migraine from the noise. 

“What are you doing? It’s Christmas Eve, Pegs. You should be preparing for tomorrow, not- _ are you covered in paint?” _

The woman looked down at herself in the minimal sunlight, seeing the splatters of green across her old hoodie. She shrugged slightly. “We’re...” 

The argument fell from her lips as Steve stepped through the backdoor, wrapping his large coat around her shoulders. “Here - you looked cold. We can’t have the star getting sick.”

“Your artwork is the star,” Peggy countered, slipping the too-large coat on.

“You never could take a compliment,” Micheal mused, the man looking amused as Steve bent down to kiss her head. “Oh,  _ hello.  _ You must be Steve, Marge won’t shut up about you.”

“I can say the same about you,” Steve teased, making Peggy’s face flush. “All kind things, of course. It’s a shame you can’t be here tonight. Maybe I can talk to Natasha, get the thing live-streamed so you can see it.”

“That would be amazing, thank you. Pegs never let me in on her dances as a kid, because she said I’d tease her. Maybe I can somehow get mum to watch.”

“And you would,” Peggy countered, rolling her eyes. “And did.”

“If you can, Steve, that be amazing. Hey, Pegs, can I talk to Steve for a moment?”

Peggy shared a look with Steve, giving a slight shrug. She was skeptical, to a point. She had no idea what her brother wanted with Steve. “As long as you promise not to do that,  _ if you hurt her, I’m going to hurt you,  _ talk.”

It was Micheal’s turn to roll his eyes. “I’ve never done that  _ once.  _ I should’ve done it to Fred. Besides, we both know you can handle yourself and Steve is such a gentle giant, look, he can’t even hurt a fly.”

Peggy chewed on her lower lip, turning the camera away so Micheal got the view of Clint and Bucky setting up a frame with Natasha’s help. “Do you want to talk to him? You don’t have to - I have no idea what he wants but if it makes you uncomfortable…”

“He’s your family,” Steve whispers, giving her a comforting smile “I’m going to have to talk to him sooner or later. Better over the phone so I can  _ accidentally  _ hang up if something goes wrong and claim signal dropped.”

_ “I can hear both of you!”  _ Micheal sighed loudly, making Peggy huff.

“Prat,” she grumbled, passing the phone over to Steve. “Be  _ nice,  _ Micheal.”

Of course, the first words out of her brother’s mouth was  _ yank. _

Steve is not gone long on the phone, a mere ten minutes or so. She couldn’t hear their conversation with the noise around her and the wind outside, but a few words stuck out. Especially  _ Fred, divorce, and flying.  _

God only knows what they’re talking about.

_ “You okay, girlie?”  _ Clint mused, dropping to his knees beside her. “You’re holding the paintbrush awful hard.”

“Just…” Peggy sighs as she forces herself to let go of the brush and flex her hand. “Just worried, is all.”

“What? Stevie?” Their eyes fall to where Steve’s shadow dances across the back entrance. “He’s good with parents and siblings,  _ trust me.  _ He’s about the only other guy, besides Nat and Buck, to win over my brother. And trust me, that ain’t easy.”

When Steve comes back inside, he makes a beeline straight for Bucky, dragging the veteran to the side so they could talk. Peggy bites the inside of her lip as she looks up at them, watching Bucky glance in her direction before smiling wildly. Her curiosity only grows when Steve comes back to her, eyes rimmed red.

“Steve?” Peggy breaths, her heart dropping as she takes her phone back. “Is everything okay?”

His head nods and he sniffs, rubbing over the tip of his nose. “C-course. I look a mess, huh? That wind is cold.”

She frowns at him, clearly not believing him. “What did Micheal want?”

“O-oh.” She hates how his voice cracks but he doesn’t look right into her eyes. “Nothing. We were just talking about maybe meeting up after the holidays.” 

Maybe it’s the tone of his voice or the way he doesn’t look right at her, but she doesn’t believe him. There was no forcing it out of him at this rate.

“Okay,” Peggy sighed, clearly doubting him. “That sounds...nice.” 

* * *

_ “Look at you,”  _ Steve breathed, forgetting everything he was trying to finish last minute when he laid eyes on Peggy. No wonder Natasha was smirking and making comments on how he was going to turn into a babbling idiot soon.

She was right.

Peggy and Natasha had left the auditorium earlier to meet the few kids that could join them and get ready themselves. Natasha wasn’t kidding when she said Peggy was drop-dead gorgeous - not that she always wasn’t.

“You look...I-mean...I…”

Peggy couldn’t resist the laugh as he stammered over himself, looking her up and down. The tutu wasn’t what caught his attention - however pretty it was. It was her hair that had been specially done by Natasha, each curl felt delicately braided and wounded up to a small bun, pinned to the top of her head with a crown.

His eyes followed her as she twirled around in spot, the tutu flaring out as she dipped into a bow.  _ Show off. _ Not that Steve minded one bit, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. 

“You look like a gaping fish,” Peggy teased, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Do I look that good, darling?”

“Absolutely beautiful,” he whispered, stepping closer so he could wrap his arms around her. “You are always beautiful, Pegs.  _ Look at you.”  _

“Are you two done being sappy?” Clint interrupted them, sticking his head through the curtains. Peggy bit back a chuckle at the golden tassel landing right on his head. “Nat says we’re almost ready. Steve, Sarah is here. Mama Sarah dropped her off - she said she had to run cover a shift tonight.”

The second those words came through from him, Sarah was lead into the back by Bucky. Her eyes were bright as she looked Peggy up and down, giggling as Steve picked her up. 

_ “Wooooow!” _ Sarah breathed, clinging to her dad to look at Peggy. “You look amazing, Miss Peggy! You’re so pretty! Look, Mama Sarah did my hair too!”

Sarah’s hair had been done in a mock of hers, wearing a velvet blue dress. She scrambled down his side just to run to Peggy and hug her tightly. “You’re gonna be so pretty on stage! Are you nervous? Auntie Natasha never gets nervous!”

Peggy chuckled, squatting down so they were on eye level. “Because that’s Natasha, no one can get past her nerves of steel. I’m always a little nervous and that’s okay. Nervous is good.”

She looked up at him and he felt his heart lurch into his throat. “Are you ready, Stevie?”

  
Steve felt his heart lurch to his throat as he helped Peggy stand up and picked his daughter back up. “Let me get Sarah settled in.” He turned to his daughter, booping her on the nose. “Come on, you. Let’s get you seated. You got an important job, okay? There’s a camera attached to the top of your chair, you gotta make sure that it’s not gonna be messed with.”

“Peggy, have you seen...” Natasha’s voice echoed around them as Steve found himself back on stage and sitting behind the piano. His focus fell to the sheet music, half-listening as Natasha and Peggy went over the last few details involving Morgan, Tommy, and Katie. 

He blinked as a shadow fell across the keys, finding a nervous Peggy standing in front of him. “You’ll do amazing,” he breathed, turning around on the bench to cup her face. He pulled her into a kiss and smiled. “I know you will.” 

“I just…wanted to say-” She stopped herself and sighed, her head tilting slightly to look down at him. “I want to tell you, to let you know how thankful I am that you did this for me, Steven. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible.” 

It almost looked like she was about to cry but he couldn’t question it. Not when a tender kiss was pressed to his cheek and she was bouncing away to the curtains as the lights started to dip low.

Steve let out the breath he was holding, turning back around to face the keys. His fingers fell to the keys, the first note ringing out loud and clear at Natasha’s instructions. The music that filled the backroom and the auditorium in front of it would never do justice, in his opinion, to the dancing that was going on stage. From his point of view, he could see a small section of the stage but it was more than enough to see his daughter in the front row, the kids, and Peggy.

The kids are what made the show, despite the unexpected shutdown, they had been practicing and  _ loved  _ every second of being on the stage. Their little hushed giggles are what made it for him, their excitement as Katie twirled on stage and almost fell off if Peggy hadn’t caught her. The laughter ringing out from the incident made him smile. Tommy and Morgan both insisting they could dance despite it was nothing but little jumps that just let out, even more, a flourish of giggles.

It was their giggles that was addicting.

_ “Steve, Peggy is coming up. You guys did amazing!”  _ Natasha’s voice had dropped from a stage whisper to a louder whisper as the kids came running up to her and hugging her legs. 

The clapping for the kids had died down when Peggy stepped into the middle of the empty stage. He could see Clint and Bucky working the lights to follow her, Steve’s eyes more on the love of his life dancing than the sheet music. He was playing it by ear - more of what felt right than what was on the sheet music.

Peggy Carter, as always, and will forever be, was stunning. He felt his mouth fall open as his fingers worked on the keys. The music had shifted from what was on the sheet to something more atmospheric and dreamy, to try to describe what he felt, what he  _ loved  _ about the woman on stage, more than the piece in front of him.

As he watched her twirl around, the happiness that lit up on her face made his chest ache. Micheal’s earlier words came back to him,  _ ‘I’ve never seen her so happy before, Rogers. You make her happy, but so does dancing. The fact she’s dancing again and with you - it speaks volume.’  _

He wanted that happiness to stay on her face. He wanted to continue to make Peggy happy for the rest of her life - no matter what it took. 

* * *

It was nearing midnight by the time they arrived home, a sparkling Christmas Tree greeted them at the door. Sarah was half asleep in her dad’s arms, rubbing her face into his coat. “It’s pretty,” she murmured, barely able to contain the loud yawn.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Peggy breathed, closing the door behind her. She dashed off to the kitchen and returned with a badly wrapped present, handing it to Sarah. “Go on and open it.”

Sarah’s eyes widened as she pulled a metal star out of the wrapping, holding it up in the light of the tree so the gold glitter. “It’s a  _ star!”  _ she breathed, touching it tenderly. “Daddy, look.”

Peggy felt her face flush a soft pink, clearing her throat. She placed down the bouquet Wanda and Vision had given her and took Sarah from her dad’s arms so she could hoist her up to put the star on the tree.

“I found it a few days ago. The owner told me her husband used to craft handmade ornaments and stars to give to their family every year and she was selling a few of the ones she didn’t want to keep.”

It was old and maybe needed a little polish on the golden surface but it was beautiful on top of their tree. The light reflecting through the small star-shaped holes punched into the surface caused little star-shaped shadows to bounce on the walls.

_ “Pegs,”  _ Steve breathed, his eyes almost brimming with tears. “You didn’t have to...I-” He smiled and dipped down to kiss her lips. “Thank you. From both of us.”

“It’s nothing,” Peggy promised. “Every amazing tree deserves a proper star, don’t you think?” 

“I do,” he agreed, gently taking his barely conscious daughter from Peggy. “I’m going to put this little one to bed.”

Peggy breathed a soft sigh of relief as she sagged into the couch. Steve had loved the star, Sarah had loved it. She worried so much over nothing. She smiled to herself as she dialed Micheal’s number, wanting to wish him a Merry Christmas and show him the star on the tree, maybe even see if he got to see the video but it went straight to voicemail.

Peggy tried to ignore her heart dropping to her stomach. The last time this had happened…

No, no Micheal was fine. It was Christmas after all. She tried once more for good measure but got the same result.

_ I hope you’re okay. The show went amazing. I miss you. PC _

Trying to tuck the worrying guilt away, Peggy climbed the stairs, finding Sarah waiting outside her bedroom with a too-innocent smile on her face. “What are you doing, little lady?”

Sarah shuffled in her pink pajamas, reaching up so Peggy could easily scoop her up. “I wanted to say good night to you!” Her face rubbed into her shirt, Peggy smiling as she tucked the little girl back into bed.

“Well, good night to you, little one. You go straight to sleep, okay? Santa will be here soon.”

“Kay,” Sarah agreed, around a large yawn. “I love you, Peggy. You make daddy happy.”

Peggy could feel her eyes burning as she pressed a kiss to Sarah’s temple. “I love you too, Sarah. And just between you and me - your daddy makes me very happy too.”

“What’s that look for?” Steve asked her when she finally got into the bed. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Peggy couldn’t resist the sniffle, rubbing a hand over her face and through her hair. “Sarah said she loved me,” she whispered despite the little girl had to be asleep by now. “And I just...it made me realize...so much.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” The bed sagged under Steve’s weight as he crawled into the bed beside her, pulling Peggy into his arms. 

“That I love both of you.” Peggy picked her head up to look at him, feeling her throat tighten. “That you make me incredibly happy - both of you do.”

She watched Steve’s face fall, his eyes brimming with tears. He couldn’t help himself in tilting Peggy’s head slightly to kiss her. She melted into him, feeling the warmth, the passion, the  _ love  _ that came from such a simple kiss.

His hand laid on her jawline as they parted, their foreheads pressed together. “I love you too. I love you  _ so  _ damn much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I cry writing this?
> 
> Yes, yes I did. Steve is such a sap.


End file.
